Remembering

[Wildcard]

redheads with secret piercings
busty blonds and flat whores
attendants, waitresses, bartenders
and of course nurses

young and surprised, wise and direct
certainly a tough tally to take
but still a lot easier than remembering names

[grannyjill]

Hm, I'm thinking about this one. You've known a lot of women (whether in the biblical sense or not I'm not sure) in all professions and in all stages of life, and with varied characters. It is hard work remembering them all let alone their names.

So........what are you saying? That sounds blunt, but that is what appeared in my head after reading this. Is the above what you are saying, or is there some underlying 'message' that I'm not getting? And if there is, why am I not getting it?

[Wildcard]

It's about a lot of things: The things that make a woman stand out in my mind or at least one category of things; how old I am, how memories fade, but somehow leave behind little sentient traces- like how the smell of fresh-cut grass makes me instantly eleven and barefoot- and how encounters of a casual kind tend to leave impressions behind, but those names have slipped away.

Eddie Vedder (my favorite songwriter and the frontman for Pearl Jam) wrote:

I swear I recognize your face
Haunting, familiar, yet I can't seem to place
Cannot find a candle of thought
To light your name
Lifetimes are catching up with me

I am not saying this is inspired by that because I haven't thought of it until now, but I'm just saying this is in that vein of thought.

[grannyjill]

It's about a lot of things: The things that make a woman stand out in my mind or at least one category of things; how old I am, how memories fade, but somehow leave behind little sentient traces- like how the smell of fresh-cut grass makes me instantly eleven and barefoot- and how encounters of a casual kind tend to leave impressions behind, but those names have slipped away.

Eddie Vedder (my favorite songwriter and the frontman for Pearl Jam) wrote:

I swear I recognize your face
Haunting, familiar, yet I can't seem to place
Cannot find a candle of thought
To light your name
Lifetimes are catching up with me

I am not saying this is inspired by that because I haven't thought of it until now, but I'm just saying this is in that vein of thought.

Crikey Moses, Mark
.....I think that your response (with a few edits) is a beautiful piece of poetry....may we have some of that in this poem, pretty please.
ps That Mr. Vedder is one mean poet.

---

How memories fade (I just writ, this! - now you can get your revenge..)

Yesterday slips away too fast,
escapes my desperate, feeble grasp.
Past thoughts fade into a misty cloud
elusive, transitory, lost in time.
Quick, bright flashes
butterfly around
settling and fluttering
as they touch my mind
But, too brief. Soon gone.
Turned to ash
leaving a sharp darkness behind
an emptiness where stored-up memories
should reside.

[Wildcard]

Crikey Moses, Mark --good opening line. It engages the reader with a purposeful, albeit oddball choice of words. Think about editing 'Mark' to 'village idiot'
.....I think that your response (with a few edits) is a beautiful piece of poetry....may we have some of that in this poem, pretty please. --overstepping your boundaries here. I'd replace 'may we have' with 'put' and swap 'pretty please' for your favorite expletive + 'it'
ps That Mr. Vedder is one mean poet.--he is my hero

---

How memories fade (I just writ, this! - now you can get your revenge..)

Yesterday slips away too fast,
escapes my desperate, feeble grasp.
Past thoughts fade into a misty cloud
elusive, transitory, lost in time.
Quick, bright flashes
butterfly around
settling and fluttering
as they touch my mind
But, too brief. Soon gone.
Turned to ash
leaving a sharp darkness behind
an emptiness where stored-up memories
should reside.

Gosh I really love your poem dude. No crit at all. :p

[grannyjill]

O Mark, I think I love you....you're as daft as I am...(ps my favourite expletive IS 'Crikey, Moses')

And I don't believe one word of your final sentence -stop humouring the old granny!

ps Do the home-owners know they've left us here alone to wreck the place?

[Wildcard]

Do the home-owners know they've left us here alone to wreck the place?

Exactly! Poor Billy . . . he made the fatal mistake of trusting a washed-out junkie! :p

As for you, Jill: You're a top quality poet and I sense that you don't realize it. All kidding aside, stop dismissing your considerable talent and knack for wording and celebrate your gifts. Become one with the alphabet and robe yourself in th- okay I just couldn't go through with the lunacy, but for realz you're a great member(Even though you're user title only reflects the latter half of that implicit title)

I think I love you too!

[addy]

jill, I suggest you post your piece in another thread pronto, in case people miss it in the comments section. What a shame that'll be!

I like your piece, mark. At first blush it's cynical, but its actually more bittersweet and sad... judging by the title and the narrator's earnestness there is a desire to actually remember these women who struck him and that he's savored in some way, and there's a minor tragedy in that they do mean something to him but in the end they also escape him, like fleeting ghosts.

[grannyjill]

Do the home-owners know they've left us here alone to wreck the place?

Exactly! Poor Billy . . . he made the fatal mistake of trusting a washed-out junkie! :p

As for you, Jill: You're a top quality poet and I sense that you don't realize it. All kidding aside, stop dismissing your considerable talent and knack for wording and celebrate your gifts. Become one with the alphabet and robe yourself in th- okay I just couldn't go through with the lunacy, but for realz you're a great member(Even though you're user title only reflects the latter half of that implicit title)

I think I love you too!

Flippin' eck (another of my favourites) Where did that serious tone come from? (It's morning now....I had to get my cocoa and get to bed, it was almost 10 o'clock)

My confident skin is only a millimetre thick...
It shears completely off with the slightest hint
of disdain,
then I beat myself up, with a bicycle chain.
The wheels...hm, no...the weals take ages to heal
before I can feel good about myself again.
Why bicycle chain?...'cos I'm a victim of rhyme
(and because I'm a masochist. I like pain all the time)

I don't feel like a talented poet...the more poetry I read the more aware I become of my failings....but, hey, let's stop being serious. Talented or not, I love doing the creative thing...I hope that never leaves me.

---

jill, I suggest you post your piece in another thread pronto, in case people miss it in the comments section. What a shame that'll be!

I like your piece, mark. At first blush it's cynical, but its actually more bittersweet and sad... judging by the title and the narrator's earnestness there is a desire to actually remember these women who struck him and that he's savored in some way, and there's a minor tragedy in that they do mean something to him but in the end they also escape him, like fleeting ghosts.

Hi, addy....what a lovely thing to say! (I may tidy it up and do as you suggest)

This is getting complicated...of course, this is Mark's thread so....I will back out quietly and shut the door.

[Wildcard]

No! Jill come back! Without you to distract them they will actually realise that my poem sucks!!!!

[grannyjill]

Don't you dare say that, after giving me a pep talk I shall do likewise. I started writing poetry ten years ago...and I still cannot write as you do now. You have an instinct for modern verse and the courage to experiment with it...I'm still trying to let go of the need to dot all the i's and cross all the t's....and you've also got the balls to stand up for what you have written (I'm getting there slowly).....so, distract them I will not (why am I talking like Yoda?)

[Wildcard]

Understand you, I can. Appreciate you, I do.

[Leanne]

redheads with secret piercings
busty blonds and flat whores
attendants, waitresses, bartenders
and of course nurses

young and surprised, wise and direct
certainly a tough tally to take
but still a lot easier than remembering names

I know it's easy just to carve a notch on the bedpost, but maybe you should have been keeping a diary :p

Do you know, I actually think I'd prefer people to forget my name, but remember something else that made me unique and unforgettable. Names are other people's labels, it's nice to think we're more than that, if only to be ranked according to boobs.

[Wildcard]

It's amazing to me how I can remember the way a woman smells but forget her name.