I am bound to your memory,
Like the spine of a book
to its pages.
And if the leaves crumble
Then I will still remember
the words the book contained.
If anyone wants to contribute their own 'take' ....on this alterations and extensions are ok by me.
An almost perfect image! If it were mine, I'd try to end it more tersely and tartly, somehow, however.
But I'd never touch someone else's work. That's for you to decide, .
Thank you Lita Sorenson - you have spotted that I was not sure if to leave it there or to write another verse.. maybe it will evolve into a longer piece.
I am sorry my replies are so long not sure how to do a quote without including all of the post I am replying to.
It is beautiful just the way it is these are your words not any of ours.
the words the book contain
will not vanish
even if the pages crumble
In my memories
you will remain
as i take your name and mumble..
all those thousand things
you gave me
to live a fruitful life
I am bound to your memory
because of you..
living today..is veritable;
This is not an attempt at alteration; it's just for fun...
Carry the idea of being bound to the memory until the end of the verse. What is being "bound to his [her] memory like"? What will having a memory so fastened do to your life?
Like a page to the spine of its book
though the book is abused, tattered and frayed
Yet the page fastened to the spine remains.
What happens to the pages in a book over its lifetime?
They get torn and tattered, they yellow, they wrinkle, they get stained (in my books with coffee or tea!).
But in a well-made book, the book of your life, that page will remain fastened to the spine of the book, regardless of the abuse.
So in the book of your life, the memory of her is what holds your life together. It is a constant in the change of life; you always remember.
Attached so she is to my thought, to my mind
bound in my thought like the page to the spine
of that book though abused, tattered, or frayed
yet that page to the spine of my book still remains
Times that I wish I could rip from this book
that page of her image for all that she took
And yet when I ponder all that we had
the good times, the bad ones the happy and sad
I know that it's futile, I know that I'd never
forget, even erase, remove, or sever
that page of my life that she wrote with her charm
Why should I stop her? What of the harm?
Try as I may, try as I might
Try with my effort struggle and fight
to blot out her image; what a futile attempt!
to straighten the line when after it's bent.
Her image is fixed, so why do I try
to shake from my book such a page so sublime?
Though that page be tattered, abused, and frayed
it comes to my mind at the end of the day
As I trod the worn path, as I come to the lane
Her memory, her page in my book still remains.
You cannot tear one single page from your life,but you can throw the whole book into the fire...peace...
I have written a poem called "Infinity"
God and religion is so complicated,
So when you talk of it, some people get irritated.
It simply means the dimension of death,
In all aspects takes away your breath.
The moment you submit to the point of light,
The word death is no more such a fright.
Infinity you become at once,
The human form you then trounce.
That’s when you realize everything is alive,
The wind, the rain, even the nectar of the bee hive.
The endless darkness in front of us all,
Is as alive as the closest insect to crawl.
When in love with one of your form,
It is a retreat in the storm.
What to do at the next bend,
Maybe things will come to an end.
Till then should I follow my heart as you order?
Or let my life be in disorder.
I really like the simplicity and clarity of the image. It's very strong and actually beautiful. The length is just about right for me, but I can see others' viewpoints as well regarding developing it further. The only thought I had was regarding the last two lines, which I think need to be as vivid as the other images.
Playing around with it, this is what I thought of :
I am bound to your memory,
Like the spine of a book
to its pages.
And as the leaves crumble
I will taste you again and again,
each bittersweet syllable...
Hey - how did you get Hubpages to publish this piece? Obviously it's eloquent and beautifully succinct, but I tried to publish a poem a tad longer than this and it would not allow me to do so for "lack of content". Any ideas?
I enjoyed this poem.
Thank you for reading it and for your comment.
This is a forum not one of my own hubpages. If I want to put poems on a hubpage I would either put a group of poems together or add images; I prefer to use my own photographs that I have taken. Or you could write about something related to the poem and add it to the poem on your hubpage. You can work on several hubs at once before you publish them so it is possible to go back and edit and add to them. Hope this helps.
Stan, are you saying you've seen this poem published as a Hub?
Because the post you've just responded to is just that - a forum post.
You could publish a short poem as a Hub if you added some suitable photos (make sure they're legal to use, though).
2uesday..m bowled over this one!!!
wow..a good one..let me see..
okay..if I try and extend will post it here
Bibowen thanks for reading and your reply, lots to think about if I develop this further. Hope you enjoyed writing the response to this and hope to read more of your writing in the future.
Mohitmisra I read this and looked at some of your other poems I like the way you are willing to write about important concepts.
I have not written poetry for a while so the forum here has helped me want to write again. I had intended just to write 'factual hubs' but creative writing is something I love.
just a space in time
forever in your mind
circles in your thoughts
leading to nowhere
ever spinning wheel
returning to the womb
embracing the soil
til its gone forever!
when will it stop
will it ever end
do i need to know
or just let it go!
maybe I should know
things that I dont know
they will just confused me
I should let it go.
hi Daniel Carter I think the lines you added are very poetic and strong and also follow the 'theme' of the poem well.
As I wrote it down the end of it felt like a painting that you are not sure if you will leave it or come back to it sometime and pick up the brush again. Maybe there is more of this poem to be written by me and I just have n't got to the place where I can take it further, if that makes sense.
I like both this and the poppies. Good use of metaphor.Donna Bamford
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