Friday, April 29, 2011

Five Minute Breakfast Poems #5 {last one}

This is the last poetry month breakfast poem.
I think it's been a great exercise to keep writing.

Poetry is something that is like currency to me. If I have enough really good lines saved up then I can buy one hot damn good poem. And it can buy happiness or sadness or sexy looks across a crowded someplace.

It doesn't matter if the poem sucks because in each poem there is a moment or a line or even a couple of words standing together that mean everything.
Everything. Keep writing? I will.

Someday We Won't Remember This

what do you really remember
about being this little kid
photographs and smells
and the stories
little myths
that the big ones tell us until they become
deep grooves across our cortex

but the tiny days of a 4 years old
there is a sadness in this age
if you think too long
about him not recalling
all this
and that
and this particular day in the Spring
of a year
when the stars all aligned
and we talked like people
in love
and in sync
and yes you lived inside of me once
and yes the world is so big
and inside of your eyes like fire
bursting out to me
I am warmed by this moment
music dumped into the background
I teach you about Lindsey Buckingham and we eat biscuits
and I am as important as Copernicus to you
I make sense of everything for you
I tell you that yes
we revolve around the sun

but only so many times

and we only remember

so many of them


Tara R. said...

This touched me today, as I get ready to attend my daughter's college graduation and watch as she leaves our nest. So many memories!

My entry is here: A power unto her own

woolies said...

As a former poet and writer, I'm totally impressed. Love this poem.

Ericandles said...

I hope you don't mind (let me know if you do), but I am going to post this to my blog. I have a four year old son and this is exactly how I feel!

Elan Morgan said...

Here's my last one!

Sizzle said...

This makes me think of my nephew. Sweet nostalgia for a time that flew by.

Thanks for this writing prompt and making sure we weren't writing weenies.


Dani said...

I made my momma read this one. Love it.

Mine's a little (a lot) late:

Elizabeth @claritychaos said...

This one brought me to tears. I, too, have a 4 year old boy right now and this little poem is exactly what it is like right now and I am so sad that it's fleeting, and that he won't remember.


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