Monday, October 3, 2016

Forgotten Things

Forgotten Things

I want to celebrate the tiny forgotten things…
The coin in the pocket that slips through the hole
Nestles in the fabric of a jacket for years
Noticed perhaps as a momentary lump of discomfort

The tickets to concerts that couldn’t quite be thrown away
Set aside by some loving impulse in a tin, a box or an envelope
The location of which cannot now be recalled…

I hesitate to mention these things…
By drawing attention to them, I change their nature
& I do not want them celebrated in the light of such exposure
I want them celebrated
In corners, in the dirt at the back of drawers
In dust and in shrouds of cobweb
Not thought of
But there
Holding some aspect of reality together

I want to celebrate them, then…
The scraps of paper with their notes, their lists their doodles…
The pen that doesn’t work, languishing in detritus at the bottom of a bag…
The dry corpses of woodlice beneath the bed…
The tiny empty bottles that still contain the ghost of a scent…
The old jacks & wires that had some function in a sound system somewhere back in some bejewelled day…

Long may they languish
&, like these rare words of mine,
May they be unearthed
Not in a bright blaze, not with any fanfare
But in moments of contemplation
Of divine idleness

When we see between the lines…

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