It Can't Be True

I lay my head in hand
and go blank with tears that slide slowly down to burgundy sheets.

Somewhere near, in my memories,
The fog lay its chords down like fingers
On the neck of a good guitar.
Feel it cool and smooth in my hand
Worn in familiar ways like a friend,
The lone survivor of the war.

So much of my life is nothing more than a simplistic soundtrack
stretching backward in lost faded pictures
and home movies that ended up in someone else’s trash.
I know…You keep your memories in your heart
and hope you memorized the lines well enough to recite them
with truth and conviction, no additions or subtractions
without outside addictions or distractions.

Where will I go when I raise my head? 
There, in someone else’s town,
I’ll learn to forget
And echo children’s smiles until the morning comes
Without fog and the music is mine again.
I’ll sing your song, remember your smile
Under the full moon of a new year come to stay.

Reviews

[Emily B]

No more smiles, only echoes of smiles. That may be the strongest, saddest image all the way through. There in someone else's town, where you'll pretend that you're learning to forget.

There is so much raw emotion in these words. This is a beautiful write, I hope it isn't your loss described in the lines.

[Antony]

This begins full of sadness and lonliness and the memories, which is all you have left. But in your last stanza comes the reality that eventually you will forget and move onto someone else and new memories will be made. this is written very well.
Tony

[Sam Freeland]

"I know...You keep your memories in your heart and hope..." a universal truth.
Being alone gives time for reflection and hopefully the poetic muse will stop by
with a thought. The loneliness is the pain...it seems to be felt by so many here
at the Cafe...at least we are kindred spirits and for that we should be grateful.
I will keep you poem with me and be glad you are here.

[doreen cyr]

great write
doreen

[Gandré]

I am sorry I have forgotten you. This was provocative and subte sensua. read. And it was true.

[The Ever-present State ..]

Okay, I've been waiting to find to time to review your stuff (I'm a slacker). This is great. It's accessible without being cliche; pointed without falling flat. In my book, both are difficult lines to walk. I like lines like "...home movies that ended up in someone else's trash." Or "without outside addictions or distractions." You hint at a backstory and leave me enough room to make the words my own. And I love turns like "I know... you keep your memories in your heart/ and hope you memorized the lines...." I hear a sigh in your elipses, or a misgiving... I'm not sure what it is, but it and the following lines keep you from devolving into hallmark card land. And I love the last stanza entirely... well, not entirely (the toy left behind seems a little trite--I have to find something wring with every piece or won't sleep at night). I hear the low country in the last stanza, or maybe I'm imposing. I also hear a song in here somewhere.

[Barry S. Maltese]

I thought that your comparrison of the fog to the fingers on the neck of a guitar, and the broken toy, was great. This was a very good read. You pour your heart out in this one. I enjoyed it.

[Charlotte Marie]

You did a great job capturing the emotions attatched to loss. Very well written! A truley great piece!~Thanks for a great read!~Charley~

[David P. Eckert]

Sadness, mourning, well described. Good passages including

Somewhere near, in my memories,
The fog lay its chords down like fingers
On the neck of a good guitar.

Some move on without looking back. Others of us don't let go so quickly, forced to live as if we are all right, while not really moving o from loss. I like how, even in the sad fog, there is a whisper of hope.

I�ll learn to forget
And echo children�s smiles until the morning comes
Without fog and the music is mine again.
I�ll sing your song, remember your smile
Under the full moon of a new year come to stay.

David

[Eric]

I love how you use the "S" sound to string this piece together. It has a nice sound in addition to the warm sentiment. A comfortable poem... a hearty poem... one made to be said over and over and over again.

Excellent writ.

[Bubo]

So much of my life is nothing more than a simplistic soundtrack
stretching backward in lost faded pictures
and home movies that ended up in someone else�s trash.

This is just such an emotional piece, full of loss and sorrow, and the words
really sad.
Mingled with music, being able to sing eventually and remember with out the complete and
over whelming sorrow.
And we learn to forget..............yes, i think we have to, or the pain would be crushing.