Monday, February 08, 2016

Finding 1974

Climbing
over the mountain
of memories,
it looks more like
the city dump,
everything tossed
about,
no rhyme,
no reason,
no hope
of ever
finding 1974
and the
innocent skin,
the naive eyes
I once possessed
before the erections,
insecurities,
and self-abnegation
took me hostage
for the next
few decades
and refused
to let go.

14 comments:

  1. We can't go back in time, but we can forgive ourselves, learn from the past and not repeat it.

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    1. Thanks, and yes, you're damned right!

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  2. I think it must have been around that time yes... yes.. that innocence around 1974.

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    1. I figure that time must have something significant as all the songs from that year have special memories. Thanks.

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  3. But what would you now say to your 1974 self? Can you find the rhyme & reason now? Be kind to yourself

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    1. Thanks, and what I'd say to myself is:

      "Don't worry, the girls will eventually like you, but you'll have to make something of yourself first, and that's not a bad thing. If you really want to be a musician or comedian, then you should do it. Don't be the second best someone else - be the first best you." That's what I'd say.

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  4. Ha. This is so easy to relate to--you have described so well the kind of angst and regret for angst one feels--very frank poetry! Thanks. k.

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  5. The fact that you mentioned the year, made me go back in time. Asking myself what was i doing then,
    For me the 'bliss of motherhood' was 3years in my system Wow you too me back

    Thanks for stopping by my blog

    much love...

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  6. That's why I don't go climbing around in those too much, hard to escape once you go there.

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  7. This kind of soul-searching becomes more frequent with the accumulation of the years. '74 seems eons ago to me.

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  8. Oh - this really is yanked from the inside - and also has that added benefit of time and distance to it - like we all do who have survived being a teenager... :) well done!

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  9. a genuine look at coming of age - the sense of losing oneself in it...very familiar to me...honest and moving piece Mosk.

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