Me, now

Spent some time on hands and knees
searching the sand
for pieces of me, spread
wide and far
when my head exploded
and the voices sailed out
onto the ocean,
Shoving fistfuls in my pockets,
desperately. Meanings,
memory lost, thought
and feelings like grains
of sand
slipping through my fingers.
Years worth
and the rest I let blow away

Reviews

[TLK]

There is an excellent section in Sartre's Nausea where the first-person narrator is looking at a photograph. He realises that every time he recalls his memories he wears it out like a carpet, and the photograph is starting to become meaningless.

I see this poem as about the process when it is explosive and disorientating, rather than a slow slide into blessed dementia.

[New Dawn]

This is wonderful writing, the powerful imagery of the exploding mind and the desperate attempt to hold on to that which is slipping away whilst at the same time having the courage to let some of it go. There is a sense of peace at the end of the poem- as though something has finally been accepted.

[Lourisa]

Great imagery. A powerful, insightful poem. Desperately holding on before it all slip away, how well do I know the feeling. Great write!

[h d e rushin]

others here have made reference to Dickinson and I agree ,as she would often seem so disputatiously
arugmentative as it relates to self (herself); taking the pressure off the world and always putting
it square upon her shoulders. In that similar way, you have found a way to deal solely with self,
that hollow beneath the junction of the soul, where meanings (good and bad) and feelings and
lost thoughts have gone off.

I believe in the thoughtful way you write poetry.
As i always have.

dana

[jacob erin-cilberto]

this is like emily dickinson's "i felt a funeral in my brain"

knowing it is happening, but can't stop it...feeling sanity slipping away...drifting in and out..until finally as she put it.." a plank in reason broke/ and i dropped down and down and hit a world at every plunge/ and finished knowing, then."

i get a similar feeling..

"shoving fistfuls in my pockets" maybe to remind me of when i did remember.

powerful piece of writing....

jacob

[Muse]

This is so cool. I could totally relate. Words...memories...sometimes as hard as we try...we cannot contain it all...and we start to slip and lose touch with reality. The older we get, the more desperate we become to pocket our thoughts...but the liner in our pockets get old and worn out over time...because of this; we will always lose a part of ourselves somewhere....

[Joiedevivre]

sometimes it's best to let a lot of it blow away, clean out the closet so to speak. But it often takes the proverbial explosion to do so! Great write.

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

"... when my head exploded
and the voices sailed out
onto the ocean ... "

Wow! The imagery in these lines is amazing. The whole poem is a sad strain, but these lines nearly wailed.

Love!

[Chris]

sometimes its harder to hold on than to let go...

[Aaron the Baron]

Great work. Sometimes we can get spread out so thinly that when we bring it all back together there are things missing. What actually defines us and our conciousness, and how can we hold onto it? And it is written beautifully too.

[Emily B]

the grains pierce the skin