Ghosts Of Januarys Past
Author: Pondering Red


First day of the new year -
the sky and white shadows
appear brilliant -
pale gold sunlight.

No one exists today.
Former boy friends
walk on by.
Some hide in dark corners,
under dim streetlights,
in misty old movie settings-
newspapers pulled over their masks.
Others sing mantras
on grassy slopes
near mountains as high as Everest.

One man is wrapped in a woven shawl,
caresses his mala beads over and over,
as I journey in an opposite direction.
He eats pomegranates and green leaves-
too tall to do yoga-
so he goes to other dimensions,
while I wash blankets by hand,
wringing out anger and frustrations-
rationalizing over and over
so much that
it becomes an art form,
a thesis,
and I receive a doctorate.

Yes, no one exists today except
the ghosts of the past-
the ones who come to disturb my
peace seeking,
my constant craving for ways
to find love and
my self-
Still searching
for my inner strengths
and spiritual songs.

No one exists.
I erase these men from my mind.
Slowly they begin to dissolve.
I still see their outlines
walking like cartoons around my house -
sitting in the air-
making themselves at home.
They are not welcome.
The past cannot be undone.
It is never accurate -
often exaggerated, minimalized,forgotten-
Pictures are lost
wrinkled, folded,
put in recycle bins
where sometimes
a stranger finds one
and wonders who that stranger
in the picture is
and writes about them.

And the old poetry books
sell for a few dollars at bazaars-
sometimes they gather dust
at salvations army bins for months
until someone
sees,reads something interesting,
and the writings are transported
to someones bookcase,
gathering dust.

It is a dusty world.
The sun today is exceptionally beautiful-
such a strong word,
so easy to use-
too tired to play with zen minimalist
image words,
reflecting seasons
and be here now moments,
circles of ripples of water,
circles of life,

No one exists today...


Comments on this poem/writing:

COLIN ( -- Monday, January 4 2010, 01:50 pm

...but you exist.....

...but you exist - in my mind - conjuring up wonderful images of mystery and imagination!!!
Name:                                           Remember Me

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