Memory…..

I collect ages in my eyes,
The slow songs Autumn plays,
Whenever this wretched heart of mine,
Weeps for you,
I surreptitiously etch the days of my glory on the veins my father cast in gold,
On himself, the house, the kisses he gave me each night,
For him I am his biggest reward,
He tells me each day,
This mind becomes a grinder of sorts,
Memories that bring me smiles,
Of places, the faces lost and that stayed,
Behemoth it becomes and takes over my body,
Sometimes when I lay in the sand,
The cold water of the ocean washes my feet,
Heals the wounds that kilometres brought me,
The messages that never reached me,Β 
The things I could never say,
Nature sings a lullaby to me,
I am her son lost to the routine,
I seldom close my eyes,
For I want to become redundant,
Impractical, impatient, ignorant,
As I become weak,
For someone to carry me,
But I beam of sunlights when darkness dissolves my being,
My mother she brought me food that she couldn’t eat,
Bruised and still working till her breath,
I collect everything in my eyes,
My memory rarely eludes me,
The firsts, the birthdays and the lasts,
It’s satanic and angelic,
The two sides of a coin,
And as I creep towards the things still not in shape,
I talk and pull myself together,
My memory becomes my biggest weapon,
And the partner that helps me craft poetries sublime,
Makes me smile again,
Live that moment once again,
And I etch it on paper,
The ink it bleeds for me,
The hues of skies,
That day,
And I become one with myself,
The memories rarely eludes me……

35 thoughts on “Memory…..

  1. These words have carved a path of life so beautifully😊..life equations are very well settled 😍..and “The firsts, the birthdays and the lasts”..😍
    God bless you 😊

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Beautiful poetry Kumar with so much depth and insight into a soul’s desires. Opening pathways with in cleansed by the elements, finding respite in family all while dealing with life’s calamaties. Love the closure of the end of coming back to yourself. ❀️ Cindy

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you Cindy. I started to write this poem as a reminder of all things that have happened over the years. The memories and everything related with it. The only people that stuck were my family and few friends. Thank you so much for reading Cindy. πŸ˜‡

      Liked by 1 person

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