Forever You (Day 73 of 100 -- Poetry challenge)

in poetry •  6 years ago  (edited)

heart.JPG

I’m trying to recall you
and all I can see is
an old-man-form
in old-man-clothing,
like Mister Rogers,
safe and warm,
and an antiseptic smell.

Your energy though,
has never left me;
You hang in the corners
of these dream-like images
where I feel a sense of love
and home, where I feel
accepted and wanted.

I’ve never forgotten
you showing me
that a man can give
freely of love,
that there is purity
and I once knew its
softness.

I’m forever a bud of a child,
nourished by you,
during harsh-times and waterless-days.

I am the flower of your love.
Thank you,
Grandpa.

Screen Shot 2018-05-10 at 5.01.23 PM.png

  • All pieces are newly crafted and posted shortly after in adherence to the rules of the challenge. All the photos are mine unless otherwise stated.

  • Entry for Day 73 of 100 Days of Poetry Challenge by @d-pend.

  • Join the Steemit School here: https://discord.gg/yZvYjfM organized by @dobartim on Discord.

  • The photo is of a bead embroidered heart charm I made (I make a lot of these, of course they are all different).

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Man, the flash makes that bead-heart look so garish. Then again, how else would a heart on display look? We all look away when someone is crying in public, whom we don't know. Sneaking glances. Because seeing a raw heart, seeing a naked heart, is rare, and we wish nothing more.
Yet we fear to look, we act as if looking might burn, because it just might.

I hadn't been aware of Mister Rogers until a couple of years ago. I can't even recall how I came across him, there was a show, or some article online, or a Twitch marathon. I dunno.
But that warm and comfortable feeling. We might scoff at it, but we all long for it.
Even if we don't want to be led, we want to know there's someone whom we can trust, to shelter us, to be a safe and warm flannel haven.
And you touch on that. Smell is the sense most related to memories - smells invoke memories more than other senses, and smell is also invoked by our memories more.

And so, your grandfather is a presence. Sense is a physical sensation, quite so. And in being remembered as a scent, he's a physical sensation to you each time you recall him.
And you know it, even if the sense-relatedness might not be the obvious cause:

Your energy though,
has never left me;

He's watching you from the edge of dreams. His presence there, like an adult overlooking children playing in the garden, is what allows them to feel safe, even when out of sight. Not out of mind, nor out of heart.

I’m forever a bud of a child,
nourished by you,
during harsh-times and waterless-days.

Beautiful, and I feel, related to the same imagery.

I can really feel the love you have for your Grandpa it really jumps out , it is such a beautiful tribute to him. It is hard to remember sometimes those that leave us and it is funny how it is one thing that brings that memory of them to us, like a smell

safe and warm,
and an antiseptic smell.

I love the picture of him you paint with your words and the way in which you describe his constant presence in your life.

You hang in the corners
of these dream-like images

And how he has left you with such a gift, that some never get to experience

I’ve never forgotten
you showing me
that a man can give
freely of love,

I really like how this poem reads like a story that each memory comes to you and you can feel the child like innocence in the love you feel for him, that he still brings out such unconditional love , this is very beautiful. Every time I have read this poem it has warmed my heart and made me feel how lucky your grandpa was to have you and you to have him. Thank you for sharing such tenderness with us all.

Sweet stuff, @mamadini.. the purity, softness and nourishing love. I think of my departed grandfather, and the thought of him possibly watching over me, sustains in challenging times. Thanks, for sharing this love letter _/|\_

I have such intense love for him. I actually feel as if I cannot contain it when I think of him. I am so grateful for him and the love in which he freely and sweetly gave.

I too find thoughts like that (as you spoke of) comforting in challenging times as well. :)

Thank you, Yahia.

I think they hear us, @mamdini, and when we think of them, it's because they are thinking of us, too.

Dunno if you might've seen this, already, but if not, here's an ode to my grandpa:

@yahialababidi, that was deeply moving -- it gave me the goosebumps and made my eyes well up as well.

I love time-arts pieces and this one is aces. Thank you kindly for sharing this here. :)

Isn't it funny, my friend, that for all the jeweled words at our disposal, nothing matches the wordless eloquence of a bodily response (goosebumps, tears).

Grateful to learn this piece reached you. Swoon is a terrific video-artist & did a great job with it.

Antiseptic. Made me cringe.

It’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood.

haha, yes, but that was the influence of his wife, she was hardcore on all of us..... I have cringe stories of her. Even so, I now think so fondly of it because of him. I am not sure how he stayed married to her til death did they part.

Different times. Maybe better maybe worse. For better or worse.

Yes, that word-play must be about how it goes when thinking in terms of decades, how entangled it can all get, the shifting tides. However, His wife was a mean woman, but that makes me think of a fetish and I hate to think of my gramps in that light. ha.

Some people think of me as a mean person. So maybe she was sweet to him. Or used to be. You know what they say about perspectives, you see different things from different angles.

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