UNTITLED FROM 1986
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Recollections
emotive memories
lost moments – we live
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I remember when I was young
when we were children
playing – the things we did!
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School times, hard times
love times
it all comes back
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Does the sap rise?
here the lump in my throat
there the ache in my heart
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The Summer of .. . . ..’
that cold, cold winter
my first car, what a peach
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Memories skip and dance
whimper, pall and fade
live, warm and energise
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I’m thinking of you
the things we did
Wow!
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And you know its fun
to remember
even sorrow has its end
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Shaft of reason
hand of compassion
moment of understanding
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We grope to experience
the plight of others
the memories they carry
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We fear the night dreams they know
the sad tales they could tell
we whimper at their loss
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The terror of darkness
and agony that surrounds us
we stand aghast
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Can we lift, nurture?
then be done and do it!
more often we listen
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And we, as the tale is told wonder
till confronted by the past
we long for the future
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edenbraytoday26.6.86
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Authors Note:- I found two old journals of verse that I wrote in the 1980’s during my thirties and even younger and I was struck by their freshness and minimalist naiveté.
I have enjoyed reading them, almost as though they were written by someone else. They speak of aspirations and hope which is what I believe we all need right now. There is a nice Kerouac naturalness about them too so Im going to put them here on my site for people to read and make their own mind up about them. Catalogued and Categorised – THE LOST JOURNALS 1980’s
Also, I am reminded of the great wordsmith and troubadour BOB DYLAN, a personal mentor and inspiration to me, who has said that on reading the early songs he wrote back in his twenties from albums like the Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan – that he doesn’t recognise the person who wrote them anymore. Of course Dylan is in fact the supreme enigma and says a lot of stuff but then we all do, don’t we?
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edenbraytoday
my favourite album cover
edenbray ☢︎ - a BEAT POET 