The stagnant mind rebels
does not want to remember
does not want to indulge
shuts the door, to the streets of yore
to the laughter of innocence;
Wants to put hands over the ears
and forget about the splashes on the beach,
and the white shells
in the apron of the dress:
This aging mind wants to erase
the soft touch of care,
the nectar of mangos
trickling down the chins
the sliced bananas in sweetened heavy cream;
There is such a pall of nonchalance
covering the sulci of this brain~
refuses to admit that it longs
for the feel of that sand
on that corner of the earth, and hear
the music of glass bangles
in the wrists of young girls,
or smell the fragrance
of jasmine buds in their hair, heady
and intoxicating. Such a parade of memories
that keeps on coming, softly, silently–
There is no music with this parade
no band accompanying the footsteps
Nothing!
How do I delete this procession of memories??
Zakiah Sayeed ©
March 7, 2018
alabeti 
Amazingly poignant poem Zakiah!
The heart will always yearn for home, eh? I have always wondered how people manage to leave their home countries. I believe our childhood memories become more prominent the older we get… maybe its that yearning for the innocence we once basked in and took for granted… the yearning for our childhood days… so carefree.
❤ and (((hugs)))
You hit the nail on the head. I was more carefree twenty or thirty years ago, and though I missed the mother land, it is now that I am truly reminiscing about childhood and siblings and the times we had together.
It seems like memories that are good slide away over time yet the bad memories stay with is over our life
That is possible, but in my case my happy memories are uppermost it seems.
Good
Lovely poem as always. I think we always long for home.
yup. I know I do.
The past can trail after us like an unwanted puppy. The best is to embrace it and make friends. There is no use shooing it away any more than trying to erase one’s shadow! I think your memories are remarkable just like this poem.
Thank you Val. I love the comparison to the little puppy. I do embrace my past, sometimes with smiles, other times with tears. But I the shroud envelops me always. I kind of like it.
memories are as grass growing on a dry soil . They resist and happen all of a suddden in our mind with full freshess .I understand perfectly what you write Zakla.ou poel really talks to ma.
Thanks
Love ❤
Michel
Thank you Michel. The memories are rich and vibrant sometimes. Then I write. Writing gives me a good outlet for my feelings.
Love,
Zakiah.
The past sure parades at odd times. Its an unwanted fog sometimes. Hard to see any clarity from there to here. I love this, Z.
I am so glad you like this Lyne, and so happy that you are here on WP writing and commenting. Thank you.
Oh, dear — I meant to come back and comment on this! I don’t really want to delete memories — they are the stuff of which we are made. New memories can be superimposed on old — they don’t make the old disappear, but rather enhance and reshape the old. Your mind is far from stagnant — it is just looking for the newer memories!
Thank you for understanding. I LOVE my memories. I enjoy them actually. All of them, new ones and old ones. My life would be so boring if it weren’t for the memories.
Beautiful and poignant! And, yes, the past does parade through our minds. 😦
I had this discussion with a friend years ago…she asked, “If you could erase all of your bad, traumatizing memories, would you?” I said, “No, because as bad as they are…they are a reminder to me of how far I have come…I’ve grown, learned, changed, and hopefully better and stronger now.”
When the bad memories come, I try to shake them as fast as I can and think of good memories.
(((HUGS)))
Yup, I do the same. Bad hurts, bad words, bad eyes, all of them come crowding sometimes, and I say “okay enough already” and start thinking of the most recent sweet words of my grand children, and life becomes bearable.
🙂
Oh – that’s nice. I don’t think you’ll ever forget the scent and taste of a sweet, fragrant mango. 🙂
Are you kidding me??! The scent and fragrance of the mango is built into the fabric of my genes. I can get intoxicated with it just by thinking about the mangoes. 🙂 🙂 🙂