Stature Of Senility Poem by Smoky Hoss
Stature Of Senility
Sitting on all his years
like a hard wooden chair,
looking, motionless into the dense
woods of forgotten memories,
staring with abandonment
feeling them draw near and
rise up,
through the crooked legs, into
tired arms and bent fingers, past
the chest with it's slowly beating
heart, up the neck, through
the nose with ancient unknown smells,
into the eyes,
seeing something way out there
move, not recognizing the shape,
but
no further.
The brain lays in wait, terrified
it will never
remember...
A fantastic poem about something that never really seems to be talked about, yet it is something that can happen to any one of us.
My problem is that I remember too much and it tries to own me..would that some memories would fade, in time.. great descriptions, you are a master craftsman with your words..measure twice, cut once in letters ;)
Beautifully written Smoky, covering a sad illness that no medicine has a cure for. Thank You
Awe Smoky you were peeking. Seriously though for me this hits home. Great poem
Wow....this is an amazing poem that says it like it is....Aging has it's downs, yet so many memories are made to look back upon, if we are lucky enough to remember them. Excellent poem, Smoky, but this one is not funny.....only reality's bite. Thanks.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/17/2024 10:41:25 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Memories stolen by the thief of senility...what a cursed hand. A lifetime lost to the fading of familiarity. Heart breaking, beautiful in the most melancholy of measure. You have done your duty well to point out the stillness in the statue' s surrender....albeit not by his choice. I will save this to my favorites...and hope this shall never be my fate. PEACE