You walk and suddenly are ambushed by memories hiding back a glass plate in a sunny day, not in a dark raining evening, but where is gaiety and happiness around you, where you don't expect to be mugged by the miserable feelings of yesterday, but then..."hey man! this is an emotional stick up!" by a picture in a window display...
I saw her, framed, inside a window display,
and suddenly it took me back to my mother,
the distant woman that we wanted to please
and that was much feared like not any other.
Looking back, she was kind of dark elegant,
with a whiff of mystery, from another world,
a plane up there, no available for the children
that were to be seen but not heard, not at all,
from the island of the youngsters own table
were no tears were allowed if you felt alone.
We heard growing up fantastic children tales
from the miserable poor talking about love,
describing feelings when caresses were given
and temperature rising in the heart with a hug,
maybe poverty drove other people to madness
and dementia produce hallucinations we know.
To compare that distant mother of yesteryears
with this Lady with a Hat was for me, now,
walking in sadness barefoot on broken glass
as no kindness were found, just a smiled scorn,
telling me through all these years of asking
that I never ever were seen or heard…not at all.
I saw her, framed, inside a window display,
and suddenly it took me back to my mother,
the distant woman that we wanted to please
and that was much feared like not any other.
I like the circular poem...ending and beginning with the same thought.
You turned out to be quite a man, a romantic at heart...despite the lack of motherly love that you felt. Kudos to you...
Some people cannot be pleased. Of course a child could never imagine such a thing, and small comfort now. For what it's worth, I too had a dose of the children should be seen and not heard, and the kiddie table. It was common for the times, and given some of the brats I see today maybe not too far from the mark. Patrick
Georg your words brought tears to my eyes
This poem is so sad
memories always stay in the corridor of our minds
and once in a while something or some one triggers them back
Beautifully writing Georg you are a fantastic poet!
Wishing You Love Peace and Light...Yolie
BUT YOU MADE IT GEORG...AND(WHETHER YOU WANT TO ADMIT IT OR NOT) WHAT A FANTASTIC POET, PAINTER, SCULPTURER AND AUTHOR YOU ARE...BECAUSE OF IT. YOU WOULD NOT BE ABLE TO WRITE IN WAYS THAT SPEAK TO 'DEPTHS' OF OUR EMOTIONS, IF NOT FOR YOUR EXPERIENCES...INSIDE AND OUT. WELCOME BACK! AND THANKS SO MUCH FOR SHARING. GOD BLESS AND LOVE,
The impact is intense. All of my mom 'senses' went into overdrive feeling that loss, sadness and abandonment, wishing I could take it all away and make it better. Wishing that it never happens to any child, but knowing that it will occur only only makes the loss harder to bear.
I pray that God's love will heal the wound even though it will never be erased.
My mom did not wear a hat like that, but I had my share of the unhappiness when all I ever did was to please and got no attention during my younger years. However, forgiving someone is the key to happiness. When my parents decided to come to Canada to be with us, happiness was my feeling that they have finally realized that daughters are just as valuable as sons. I have nothing to and hold no grudges about the brother they loved, but I know in my heart if I ever met this brother today, I will forgive him for he deserves a chance for forgiveness. Everybody deserves a chance of forgiveness. When you forgive others, that's when you find joy in yourself too.
I'm writing my story of the dark days that were of my life, but it would not make me sad to remember those days, knowing what those days had brought me to the "me" of today now. We are responsible for our own happiness. I hope in your heart you will find yours too. I'm not talking about the dreamy happiness, I'm talking about "being good to others", "forgiving others", "being not so hard on yourself", "be proud of who you are" - those kind of happiness that you can make for yourself. It is said that regardless of our own background on how we have come into this world, how we were brought up, what environment that we were living in when we were growing up, we are the ones who are responsible for our own shine. You can be a glowing rose amongst a field of weeds, unaffected by others.
I will continue to write my stories from my dark days, but it's no chance that it would rob me off from my happiness that I have created for myself today. I write them, but I won't go there anymore, and I hope you don't either.
It is amazing how pictures can trigger memories and reawaken the actual feelings we had years and years ago of our past. While I was visiting with my terminally ill brother last weekend we were going through a box of his old family pictures...I saw one there of myself when just a young man but for a second I was there in that scene and feeling the same feelings I had so long ago...
Fee
Memories of the past have both pleasant and unpleasant thoughts and once they are triggered the mind will either bolt to happiness or go dormant like a moon behind a cloud. Great poem
Reviewed by Peter Schlosser (Reader)
Reviewed on April 16, 2010
I love how you described the "emotional stick-up" in the run-up to the poem. So true, so true, so true. It's amazing how we get blindsided by emotions sometimes. I loved this poem. Very well done.
these attacts are terrible
especially if you're talking to someone
& the flood gates erupt...bam....
as always...your words relate us to our own lives
& even in them...some of the sorrows of broken glass
Love & Inspiration
Vickie
Georg, it does not take much to trigger memories that once we buried in the deepest parts of our heart and soul...you have done well in describing yours.
georg...after reading 3 times...am filled with such strange emotions...like you've taken me on a personal tour through the long barred and boarded up part of your home
leaving me to embellish with my own conclusions the details of the obvious story...WOW! is all i can mutter
Money doesn't make such a happy memory if there's no love. Contrarywise, Love always makes a happy memory, regardless of the absence of money. I know I'm a good decade or so younger than you, but I'll be your mummy. --Charlie
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This CD will touch the deepest inner part of your humanness and spirit, you will never be the same after listening to the depths of struggle, the reality of life, the touching voice of truth. It will shock you, move you to tears. It w
Spoken Word
This CD will touch the deepest inner part of your humanness and spirit, you will never be the same after listening to the depths of struggle, the reality of life, the touching voice of truth. It will shock you, move you to tears. It w
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You turned out to be quite a man, a romantic at heart...despite the lack of motherly love that you felt. Kudos to you...
Cryssa
Regis
This poem is so sad
memories always stay in the corridor of our minds
and once in a while something or some one triggers them back
Beautifully writing Georg you are a fantastic poet!
Wishing You Love Peace and Light...Yolie
But, fancy that a woman in a hat brings back so much deep lamenting.
JOYCE * HIS INSPIRATIONS
I pray that God's love will heal the wound even though it will never be erased.
God bless you. Kathy
I'm writing my story of the dark days that were of my life, but it would not make me sad to remember those days, knowing what those days had brought me to the "me" of today now. We are responsible for our own happiness. I hope in your heart you will find yours too. I'm not talking about the dreamy happiness, I'm talking about "being good to others", "forgiving others", "being not so hard on yourself", "be proud of who you are" - those kind of happiness that you can make for yourself. It is said that regardless of our own background on how we have come into this world, how we were brought up, what environment that we were living in when we were growing up, we are the ones who are responsible for our own shine. You can be a glowing rose amongst a field of weeds, unaffected by others.
I will continue to write my stories from my dark days, but it's no chance that it would rob me off from my happiness that I have created for myself today. I write them, but I won't go there anymore, and I hope you don't either.
((((( Hugs ))))
Sandie Angel :o)
Fee
especially if you're talking to someone
& the flood gates erupt...bam....
as always...your words relate us to our own lives
& even in them...some of the sorrows of broken glass
Love & Inspiration
Vickie
Cheers,
Dan
leaving me to embellish with my own conclusions the details of the obvious story...WOW! is all i can mutter