Was the portrait
of a moment
memory fed
into sepia tones
as the ghost
of the moment
moved in time
lapsed photography
where a shadowy figure
just disappeared?
How the moment
in a word
was growing old
and none realised
it more than
the memory.
In the kingdom
of thoughts
once more
the heir to
every moment
was the memory.
I truly have no clue what your poem is getting at, but I'm reminded of how weird it is that some people, after they die, do not stick around to poke around in my memory, whereas a very special few have lingered as long as five years after the earthly demise. There's just no telling what the deeper connections really are, as we bumble along with our earthly assumptions. Did I wish you a Merry Christmas? I'm on social-overload now (being the reclusive type), so I might be repeating myself! (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie
Posted 5 Years Ago
5 Years Ago
Hi Margie, basically it’s about how sepia photos of people are the only “living”remains in tod.. read moreHi Margie, basically it’s about how sepia photos of people are the only “living”remains in today well after their real image has disappeared and finally in closing -memories are the heirs or rulers of all moments in the end. I know it’s all obscure and cryptic lol. Just adds to the fun. Merry Christmas to you Margie and I appreciate your thoughts.
Strindberg said.
" When I come home and sit at my writing table, then I live.... I live, and I live in manifold fashion of all human beings. I depict; I am glad with the glad, wicked with the wicked,.. more..