emotive memories

lost moments – we live


I remember when I was young

when we were children

playing – the things we did!


School times, hard times

love times

it all comes back


Does the sap rise?

here the lump in my throat

there the ache in my heart


The Summer of .. .   . ..’

that cold, cold winter

my first car, what a peach


Memories skip and dance

whimper, pall and fade

live, warm and energise


I’m thinking of you

the things we did



And you know its fun

to remember

even sorrow has its end


Shaft of reason

hand of compassion

moment of understanding


We grope to experience

the plight of others

the memories they carry


We fear the night dreams they know

the sad tales they could tell

we whimper at their loss


The terror  of darkness

and agony that surrounds us

we stand aghast


Can we lift, nurture?

then be done and do it!

more often we listen


And we, as the tale is told wonder

till confronted by the past

we long for the future 




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?




                    my favourite album cover

About edenbray

I am a writer ... a beat poet who began writing poetry way back in 1966 ... 'edenbray is born ugly, wet, covered in blood, mucous & bodily functions, the effluence of my short life' ... I recently published my 1st solo Anthology - the best of 60 years writing - previously I ran my own Art Supplies Store for 40 yrs before I became a full-time writer I am a Blogger who has posted 1,000 poems - available in 24 themed booklets ... please ask for details + leave a 'like' or a comment for my encouragement, thank you so much for listening - I truly value your opinion on my work ~ in fact I literally survive on your creative input ~ edenbray
This entry was posted in edenbray BACK CATALOGUE, edenbray MEMOIRS, edenbray POMES, edenbray RETROSPECTIVE. Bookmark the permalink.

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