samos

[constantine]

it has been fifty years since
but in my memory I grow young
I walk along the village path
its soft meander through forest glade
we would sit, Byron and I
on ancient stone walls, smoothed
with time, cool in the shade
of the green canopy
in a land whose people looked
familiar, with names that sounded
like my own, I remember
chasing a flock of sheep that would
veer just out of my fingers' reach
straining, if I could touch
their coils of creamy wool, soft
tantalizingly close, I saw
a man leading his donkey
he gestured me aside and
warned me of its dangerous kick
there were trees of oranges and lemons
there was a peacock with a fan of plumes
feather eyes that would never blink
pine cones and snail shells we collected
a necklace for our mother, I had
grandparents and cousins and uncles and aunts
who reveled in my presence and
Esmeralda who pulled my hair and made me cry
we took a chicken up to the roof
and dropped it down the chimney
into the kitchen it squawked and squawked
oh my brother was a demon
he told me if I ate the gumdrop
I could have my grandfather's farm
I was dubious and suspicious,
it looked tampered with, but
I bit it anyway cause
I wanted the farm
inside was a clove of garlic,
he laughed the laughter of the wicked

and, in the distance
we could see the coast of Asia Minor,
as Achilles and Patroklos might have seen,
from a beach of black pebbles
each as round as a marble
in water as clear as teardrops...
Why am I here I ask myself?
Where is my brother Byron now?
How would it have been if we had stayed?
How could I have known that
the high point, the best times,
the purest joy and lasting memory
was held in the hands of a five year old boy?

[libberator]

Very good,
While reading this I felt like I was actually in the Aegean Sea.

[constantine]

thanks. i live in the woodstock nation too. used to be a yippie

[libberator]

that's awesome,
always good to meet a fellow traveller

[constantine]

thanks. free means you don't pay

[Nazz]

Thanks for taking me there Dino. I walk along that path too. It's been such a long time.

[hester_prynne]

Oh to stay forever here in the brilliance and beauty of this poem.
Really, I mean this one's a homerun for hest, man you knocked it outta the park.
Monkey train dazzle sparkles, or whatever...you know?
I mean, I love this Constantine....
Can I make me a copy?
H

[constantine]

thanks mark. hester, of course - anything for you!

[sweetwater]

narcissistic

lost youth accolades of places one has visited

[constantine]

if you spot it you got it.

[Lightning Rod]

this is so nice, dino
what would you call it a poemoir or a mempoem?

I'm really liking your reverie stuff. I'm sure you have thought about writing a poetic memoir.

[constantine]

all poetry is memoir.

[libberator]

all poetry is memoir.

you could not say something more true