Sitting here serenely
Sipping cinnamon tea
Reading Ferlinghetti
Remembering Paris
As it probably never existed
I am tempted to revisit
The youth I imagine I had.
The world need not know
That I was never the adventuress
Taking lovers like buses
Indulging in recreational substances
Filtering the Orient through blue eyes
To create some new aesthetic.
Let the record show that I was daring!
Let whatever is left of my writing
Express an ideal I never reached.
Lead future generations to believe
That I set out at twenty-two fully-realized,
Ready to build my empire of words
Already sure of its foundations.
Purge anything that hints
At the fits and starts
Of the houses of cards
That reached higher each time
Only to collapse under the weight
Of my own heavy-handed hubris.
Collect the gems.
Make the rest disappear.
Organize it all in some coherent form
That lends the appearance of a master plan
To what has been a haphazard accident
With any beauty, any wisdom
Purely in the eye of a viewer
Who stands in just the right place
And squints in just the right way
And convinces herself
That what she sees
In her mind's eye
Came from mine.
A nice trip down the memory lane to revisit ones own youth and go through remembrances those were then very dear and near. Enjoyed the poem. Thanks for sharing.10 points.
Thanks for leaving a comment. I'm glad you liked it! - Suzanne
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
so of course you've told us now, suzanne, that you're just like us who didn't appear suddenly whole in verse or whole like athena from the head of zeus or venus on the half-shell—good to see it acknowledged, good to read it in this enjoyable poem. though there is aptitude, genius, and the like, none of us escapes, in some theater of our lives, trial an error, growth in facility, the school of hard knocks. -glen