Tuesday, September 8, 2015

Forget this



photo by Daniel Dionne


We forgot the moment of our creation.

We forgot the feeling of winning the race,
even if only for once in our life,
of piercing the egg

We forgot the feeling of two hearts beating at once,
no matter if it was love or rage or madness that drew them
together, and restarting -- in sync

The horror of losing everything
that brought us comfort – the warmth of living
in a hug, of constant sustinence, voices speaking to us
from beyond –

how cold it was
how bright
when we were pushed out// the first time we were
pushed out //disconnected

How falling felt
when we taught our mothers how to give birth
because no two are the same

We forgot our uniqueness //
like unwrapping the candy we put the sweetness
in our mouth to suck / discarding the wrapper
w/its list of ingredients

Our list of ingredients as refuse
Refusing to believe / because you can not create it,
it just is

And we are more, but settle for less,
perhaps because the first time, we fell off the bike,
our fathers left / our fathers wouldn’t leave
no matter how tight we held the blankets to our bodies,
because we trusted the first boy that thought we were something
else&the first girl to invite us back to birth,

because we could never replace what we lost,
& there was nothing in the found box

We forgot our purpose,
when nothing felt meaningful & we were overcome with
so much / sensation / We forgot feeling
when numbness held us like a friend should
but didn’t

We forgot the world is not a stage,
real people don’t need scripts, actors get paid
& there are no stunt doubles when life gets messy,
you have to take a chance
                             or love is concerned,

but concern our whole lives with
                                             how we will be
                                                                  remembered.

inspired by Loyce Gayo and Grace

17 comments:

  1. Love seems a getting back to more than home here--some original place certainly beyond original sin. I love the line re numbness holding like a friend-- very original and real. K.

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  2. A very powerful poem, I am moved with each stanza particularly the:
    We forgot our purpose,
    when nothing felt meaningful & we were overcome with
    so much / sensation / We forgot feeling

    I also like the turn of refuse// Refusing and We forgot the world is not a Stage~

    And no, I will not forget this ~ Thanks for being inspired ~

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  3. This is brilliant

    And we are more, but settle for less, This one line breaks my heart

    and

    This one as well
    We forgot feeling
    when numbness held us like a friend should
    but didn’t

    When I was pregnant a old man came up to me and said that it is during our time in the womb that we develop the concept of God, this benevolent entity that surrounds us with love and meets all our needs instantaneously.

    mindlovemisery

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  4. Oh I love mindlovemisery's comment! This is deep and powerful writing and I will come back and read it again more thoroughly, as am just flying out the door.

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  5. I'm never sure which is worse, forgetting, or remembering...I think we do both on many levels, and here you reproduce the tumble into that pit of blackness of our joint beginning, the beginning o identity, the loss of connection, the comfort and the cold of the void from whence we come, and where we go--and the light that in forgetting we must chase our whole lives to recreate. Another fine piece.

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  6. In the momentum of worldly matter that we keep on chasing somewhere we have forgotten how to live, we are just surviving.

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  7. To imagine the journey we have traveled after exiting the womb.. there are forgetfulness along the way (sometimes intentional).. but there I truly believe that anything suppressed will come back to haunt us at the right moment.. and there we sit in our regrets ... afterwards.

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  8. I love that the title says so much in only two words. And the fact that you're introducing a poem about NOT forgetting by first instructing us to "forget this." Very unique approach. I dig it. Or maybe you're talking to the number 4: "Four, Get This." :)

    I like the first line ... obviously we don't remember our physical conception, but how many rebirths of sorts have we experienced during our lives? They are milestones of (re)creation that we certainly shouldn't forget. And why would we, unless they should be forgotten? ... Hmm, lots to consider here.

    But yes, Amber's beautiful comment does make me look at this the opposite way ... how it felt when we created a baby. This: "We forgot the feeling of two hearts beating at once" ... The most amazing feeling in the world. You can't help but be recreated, at least as a mother, by feeling/hearing that. To realize your life doesn't matter anymore; that you suddenly exist only to sustain and lift up the little one you carry inside. The most powerful experience of my life, for sure. I 100% became a new person almost instantaneously when I found out I was pregnant for the first time. I completely revamped every molecule of my being to become what she needed me to be.

    "no matter if it was love or rage or madness that drew them
    together, and restarting -- in sync" ... This makes me think about the two people who created the child, all the reasons they might have come together in the first place, good or bad. And then what you did with that hanging "drew them," reiterating that they became art when they created art (a baby).

    "how cold it was
    how bright
    when we were pushed out// the first time we were
    pushed out //disconnected" ... Continuing the perspective through the mother's eyes, this makes me think of how we lose our babies when they become teenagers and begin to push us away. "We forgot our uniqueness" ... I think this happens when you become a mother, as well. Then maybe when the kids leave you, you're left trying to figure out who you were/are again.

    "actors get paid
    & there are no stunt doubles when life gets messy" ... Man, that's way too true!

    "you have to take a chance
    or love is concerned" ... This is a very interesting reworking of the phrase. I like it.

    In the picture, I see some notes/lyrics on paper, a water hose, and a bottle of peroxide ... which to me speaks of washing things away, cleaning, doctoring. (I do know it's actually a stage; I think I see a drum set in the background. But I'm pretending they're other things. Yeah, but this definitely links back to the "forget this" title. Forget the script, in other words. Just go with what your gut tells you to do. In my case, get off the damn stage! I'm so in awe of people who can handle it; it would be way too scary for me.)

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  9. More than anything my first
    and only child teaches
    me through all the
    misery and pain is
    the basic lesson
    is Life wants
    to Live..
    to forget
    that.. is
    a life of
    ease
    un ease
    inspiration
    comes as living
    instead
    of dying
    now..
    in my best
    appease..:)

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  10. I have been a feckless thespian hambone all my life, who directs my own movie with me as the star; as Bukowski said; "when I write, I am the star of my own shit". This piece is transcendent, inspiring, & Zen complex, because the reacquaintance to the veil of forgetfulness with each lifetime, some memory travels through, extant, wise, alacrity. Your poetry continues to dazzle me, man. I love the lines
    /how falling felt/when we taught our mothers how to give birth/because no two are the same/.

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  11. We forgot feeling
    when numbness held us like a friend should
    but didn’t.....a powerful poem....quite a journey you take us on. A great piece, my friend.

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  12. This is absolutely fantastic....!! One of my favorites! Often in life.. we soon forget the passing of each joy and sorrow.. as life is nothing short of a whirlwind.

    Lots of love,
    Sanaa

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  13. Your poem covers a whole gamut of things....from our birth to our childhood happenings and even our purpose. Forgetting our purpose may be the saddest of all. If life has no purpose, what reason is there to live?

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  14. We forget simply because it is easier than remembering...but, to forget our purpose leads us down a road of isolation and destruction in many ways. To forget love would be heartbreaking..too much here tonight for me to absorb. Life may not be a stage, but sometimes it feels like we are moving through the motions of a scripted day. So many days the same.

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  15. Hi kiddo, having listened to the fantastic spoken word poem and reading the prompt, I can appreciate this poem even more.........such depth, and such scope and too many great lines to repeat. The responses to this prompt make me want to write one too - I will wait till tomorrow as am wrecked tonight - half a dozen kids all day in various states of distress. Maybe they will be my poem in the morning. "We forgot children need kindness", maybe?????? Sigh. How is it some adults forget what it was to be a child?

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  16. I love this one x. Just exactly how we are. Messy and messing up. Not realising the value of what we have until it is gone. Especially loved the first few stanzas. So true.

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