A Poem a Day: How One Man Gets his Groove Back

I’m in the grey.

Not in a Counting Crows, “Mr. Jones,” sort of way, but rather, in a black and white combination; a one-for-two deal. I’ve asked advice from friends, and they’ve given me little gems ranging from completely useless, to no help at all. Some have ignored me, and one even made a pretend fart noise.

Since I am 30 now, and I have in a way failed to live up to a particular life goal, it is high-time to take initiative. I’d promised myself that I’d finish my first novel by 30. Well, 2 starts, and about half way on another, is close – but no cigar. I’ve taken solace in that I’ve written a screenplay, a children’s book and other things. But, that leads me to what this whole thing is about.

For those that don’t know me, I lived for the past 5 years in London. It was a great experience, and I had very hard time returning home, so much so that it still eats at me from time to time.

In the days leading up to my departure from California all those years ago, the person I was moving for (more her than grad school) suggested a project. She suggested I write a poem for everyday that I was away. While I wasn’t sure at that point how long I’d actually be living in London, and the prospect of writing a poem for several years straight was a bit daunting. We eventually compromised and decided I’d write one for every day of my first year as an expat.

The premise of this exercise was to give an insight into my individual, daily experience. For me, the human experience is dictated largely by the daily excursions into society. We may feel greater emotions with the large, earth-shaking moments in time, but those are so far and few in between, I believe we change more from the daily experiences than we do from the larger ones.

That was my aim with the endeavour. My aim with this one? I don’t know. Some of these poems are bad, some are cute and others are forgettable. I guess the point is, I don’t know how they are useful to people, but I believe if they are to at least one person then it will be worth the embarrassment. For the next year, I will be posting one a day.

One minute insight into the mind a person far removed from comfort; homesick and in love.

While most of those things fading into the years, the experience was one that I will never forget.

I hope you enjoy, and remember I was about 24 at the time. Please be kind.

August 17/August 18 – In flight

Come this way, come nearer–
Separation grows with the distance.
But, wires stretch thinly, and travel slowly;
Our words reach to fit the distance.
How will what was said know the way?
All we can do is try.
The future moves as well, casually,
But it doesn’t try.
No one can miss the fear
In your shallow gulps.
Anticipation builds;
We will become just as quickly as we will forget.
The mind works only to preserve and repair.
How do we learn to remember?
You don’t –
Now boarding –
I have to go –
The light swells placidly.
How do I learn to preserve? –
You don’t –
Figures hang more like shadows,
The moment fades, and fades.
I’m moving –
You’re moving –
Tell me –
You cannot preserve, repair, or remember;
There is only forgetting to forget.

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keelancrampsey

In flux

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