By Corrupted Memory
*
Through the worn pages of a simple Past
My slow and labored steps wander
With memorable moments no longer
Relevant or necessary to invoke,
Always to return to Now, this moment,
Passing as I breathe and wonder…
What was it all about, these cluttered,
Fanciful swipes of frivolity and time?
What Muse am I to discern follies and loves?
The mere poetic nothingness in the more
Noble distribution in years of memory?
Still, the mind continues its laborious stroll
Down through the trough of Time
Beckon me onward down these dusty paths
To the utter halls, I fear, of Madness.
*
BR Chitwood – September 12, 2019
*
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Powerful images, Billy Ray. I hope the dusty paths only lead you to adventures. ♥
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Sounds much like a middle of the night thought. Great poem. Billy.
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As long as the mind strolls, the madness will remain outside. A terrific poem, Billy Ray
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Good thought, good John… ♥♥
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Damn memories! But take them away and all we have left is slow pee stream.
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Ha, ha! Two to draw to! ♥♥
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A good question, “What was it all about?”. Keep wondering, and let me know if you find an answer. 🙂
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I was banking on you, buddy Tim! I’m working on it! ♥♥
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Same here, Billy Ray. It’s a conundrum, isn’t it?
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A conundrum not likely to be figured out in this lifetime. Keep writing, buddy-Tim. ♥♥
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