Thursday, March 4, 2010

TIME WITHOUT MEMORY


RWP#116...a draft Using this photo by H.Koppdelaney


TIME WITHOUT MEMORY

It has been a blink
of clock ticks
ticking away since conception
lost forgotten moments
never to be returned
progresssing towards a place
where memories are lost
moving on to some other time
with a declining body
without a fresh metabolism
no longer hung up
on high button shoes
and unrealistic dreams
to a place without heartache
or faked death below the watchtower
leaving the burning palace of conception
the distant temples of conquest
and the shadows of the past behind
now in a dark boat above a river
surrounded by advice never taken
blinded by the expressions
never spoken
with some ancient ferryman
guiding a lost soul
of some newly deceased
across the Styx
a river of no return
descending to the underworld
the last voyage into eternity
where nothing is real
where souls jitterbug to jazz
beating to the hearts of yesterday
lost in no sense of conquest
listening to Huxley's psychobabble
and his meaningless abstractions
that never rhyme
without lords or creatures of faith
clutching to their rusted boughs
drinking a sweet adrogynous liquid
celebrating the dead survivors
who once moaned in the graveyards
lonely and frozen in time
gazing at the bright searchlights
that shine on the nuns
playing tennis without rackets
invisible with no strings attached
beyond the light in the tunnel
without struggles or sober thoughts
moving towards time
that has no memory

11 comments:

Paul Oakley said...

Fascinating presentation of the afterlife, Wayne! Playing tennis without rackets, jitterbugging, listening to Huxley, absence of religious overlords, "drinking a sweet adrogynous liquid..." "moving towards time/
that has no memory " Very evocative!

anthonynorth said...

An excellently surreal view of the hereafter. Nicely done.

ofheart said...

Couldn't agree more with these two gentlemen... always such a pleasure!!

Derrick said...

"Playing tennis without rackets". I wonder, would that be heaven or hell?! Intriguing concepts, Wayne.

Raven's Wing Poetry said...

"Burning palace of conception"? I recognise that phrase. Somebody's been dipping in the same pot of inspiration! ;)

BTW I love what you did in this piece...this has a very surreal feel to it, a kind of a quality of moving slowly forward and through without being able to touch anything or really FEEL anything...dreamlike, except not quite so pleasant. There aren't angels of fire and ice here, nor are there walls of blaze and brimstone. It just is.

Excellent work this week.

-Nicole

rallentanda said...

Afterlife a la Wayne...jazz amd jitterbug..
btw your amigo could only be described as laid back:)

flaubert said...

I love this Wayne! Nice job!

"celebrating the dead survivors
who once moaned in the graveyards
lonely and frozen in time
gazing at the bright searchlights
that shine on the nuns"
I am sure I don't understand it. But I love it!

Pamela

Erin Davis said...

Ooooo. I really like what you've done here, Wayne. So many compelling images. My favorite:
leaving the burning palace of conception
the distant temples of conquest

Tumblewords: said...

beating to the hearts of yesterday,
lovely phrases and imagery in this piece. It's an intriguing read, enjoyable and thoughtfully presented.

Irene said...

Great imagery of an afterlife Wayne.

俊達 said...

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