gotta love those mistaken pathways that build such strength of character!
always a pleasure to read your stuff, jude.
be well,
carolyn

As I grow older, I always begin to wonder if what I remember happening really happened the way I remember it, or even really happened at all. I love the way your poem plays with this conindrum

Chip Bergeron

this one pulls deep within the brain, knowing i am also one of those carrying an area of brain fog or heart space, haunting, just out of reach idea of something I engage as a past life filtering in, yet it never gets further away or any clearer as I age in this one...I feel ya in this one

wow, clever write, does memory serve correct and what should really be remebered? thought provoking. ~ Morgan

Jude you always make your readers search and think!

Hi Robert,this is a moving and deep write and I especially loved the way you used the word Mirage...beautiful!

I live in a self contained home...thats all I need, no batteries, just me....what can I say, this is what I got from reading this...though I doubt I know what I am talking about...senility...e

Mirage so vivid we ask is it so.. Splendid write ~jude~
Lady Mary Ann

Batteries not included in this one
*Jude* you have so well presented
running on our own!!!

Lady Vivian

A lot of people share the thought that older people are crazy...well, I guess it depends if you are looking at life from 20 or from 60. At 20 we are fearless because we don't know any better but at 60 we are fearless because we know that today is never going to happen again. We have learned to believe in our dreams and also that illusions are the only reality that matters; its just a different vantage point. I really, really like this one, Jude.
Take care,
Sherry

I'm a firm believer in dreams, and also in some of them being almost more real than life. This is something luminous you have written, Jude!
Blessings,
Christine

Our appetite for awe and wonder are never assuauged but only augmented by time and desert borders and the persistent creak of leather, Amigo. Yes, I remember it was to here that you used to come as Robert Jude Ace Forese, to "water your tired horse and to refresh your dusty thoughts". It was as if you were heading us out as a wagon train of poetic pilgrims and pioneers, searching for new creative territories and synaptic settlements. You'd call back to me to "circle the wagons" when the going got tough... or did I dream that?! :)) And I'm sure that it was you who taught me to "Really hawk it back and spiyit!" LOL!!

Seriously, this is one of the most excellently conceived and tightly executed poems you've written in a while, in my opinion, Kartero. The flow of thoughts, word play and images are at once sinuous and strong. Mirages are real even though they play with perspective. And surely, if you experience something deeply it IS a reality - even if it is only seemingly "virtual" - especially if it is mutually shared? As always you take us on a metaphysical journey within your must keenly visceral writes. One of my favourites for certain sure: I'm right back in Monument Valley with this one! :)) xx

Memories can take us many place with the boarders of self. Some times they are maganfided to make the soul feel just a little better , some times they are painful. It never hurts to dream the dream of dreamers...M

I would have to say thirsty visions and reality can be quite hazy with time.
Can we ever really remember every detail of every moment of our lives. Hardly think it to be true. However, you poem does give my synapses a run for their money. You always make your readers think, feel and wonder.
I wonder if this mirage ever really came to pass what would you think? You feel? would it be what you imagined it to be? Or would it be a surprise as it would be something so different from what you remembered that you would have to now remember something else instead. wow where was I going with that one...lol
Anyway, I love this poem and know that you really do remember everything...

Peace, light and love,
Amber

Quite fascinating. Memories do bend. Patrick

I like the concepts in this write and how it leads the reader to ask their own questions :-)

a far cry from the sci-fi concept of total recall, still and all, I much prefer your foray into reverie, with its western undertones and cobweb cadences, and I really like the cryptic closing, jude... the wanderlust of the mind never felt so fine... I found that the familiar violin strains of Kansas' Dust in the Wind gently wove their way into the seamless tapestry of my mind as I was reading this one... maybe it was the subliminal line "dust in the eyes, wind smacking the face..." and echoes of Eliot's mixture of memory and desire... his Wasteland imagery kind of nags along the outskirts of the town on the fringe of memory's borders... how you manage to trump each ace you play in this ever-growing hand of an ever-expanding repertoire is just amazing! Keep up the excellent work, Jude. As Always, it is pure pleasure to read your work.

Thought tripping at its best, Jude. Taking on responsibility for bringing up the distant past and rearranging your words in an attempt to make sense of it all, and we are all aware that nothing, nothing makes perfect sense. Still, you have a good start on discovering it.

Fanciful reminiscence rearranged, I like this - when the limited gray matter compartmentalizes us within the limited borders of memory. And ending with a great question posed.
:) Janna

This would be a great conversation popped into a little rowboat out in the middle of the ocean, a secret tryst and a bottle of wine. This is the kind of thing queried about the time one plans to climb into Sirius. There's a syncopation here in meter that lies halfway on the cusp - consciousness and telepathy seducing vivid recall. It's good mind poetry, Jude...

s