The Forgetting (Poetry)


The face, in this picture

Looks sort, of familiar

The eyes I have seen

But the name rather distant

When was the time, the immeasurable date?

I think I hear an echo of an ovation

 

A lover, stranger than fiction

Dragged by the winds ‘til barely a whisper

The years are a museum

Ancient and inconsistent

When was goodbye? It escapes all my guesses

I’m a towering sunspot of repression

 

I’ve forgotten it, I don’t remember bliss

It’s too long ago and too far away

It all slipped away,

If we ever kissed, my memory’s a ship

That sailed long ago and so far away

It all slipped away

 

A face, in a picture

A lover, a fiction

Surreal like a dream

Handed over to oblivion

It’s a lifeless cadaver, history’s little disaster

It retreated hard and it lasted

 

…

 

One day, on the phone

A voice sounds like, I haven’t heard it before

The words I all know

But their antiquity’s not persistent

Why are we speaking about something so completed?

I will not remember because I just can’t relive it.

 

 

All Rights Reserved © October 2018 John J Vinacci

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