Bring me all of your dreams,
You dreamer,
Bring me all your
Heart melodies
That I may wrap them
In a blue cloud-cloth
Away from the too-rough fingers
Of the world.
Langston Hughes
The Dream Keeper
I have accepted the challenge and continue this exercise because
when I am old and Pinterest has faded and been replaced with bouncing on the stars I want my mind to be filled with magic in the form of words to keep me company.
My Grandmother was diagnosed several years ago with Alzheimer's.
She looks at us as though she knows us, but has lost most verbal communication. But she hums hymnals from the Catholic church and will occasional speak in French, but nothing that can be recognized. So we sit and hold hands and I stroke her silver, sparkling hair. Feed her ice cream. And look into the creases of her face and hold on to the memory of her smiles and tickle wars and dances on the the terrace in the islands.
So my children and grandchildren can hear about that time I hitchhiked in the South of France, I have accepted the challenge.
Also, My Husband is a poet and spoken word artist.
I always entranced when he performs,
by his ability to memorize line after line and present it with such emotion.
So he can have a wife that can converse with him
forever on the porch in the summer sun, I have accepted the challenge.
A reader left this behind on
"My professor at Columbia called this kind of memorization investing in
your own 'mental furniture.' He had memorized most of Shakespeare's
sonnets, and he loved the idea that he'd always have those words as
furniture in his head for his thoughts to sit on, even in old age."
Lets just say, I want my mind to look like Ikea.
Chock full of seating space.
IF you've got an awesome poem that makes your heart zing,
please share it and lets build our warehouse space together.
These are really beautiful words, Kel. Poetry is magic, some struggle to understand them; not realizing that most poems are meant to be experienced, not read with magnifying glasses. Here's one of my fav. poems by Langston Hughes
ReplyDeleteMother to Son
Well, son, I'll tell you:
Life for me ain't been no crystal stair.
It's had tacks in it,
And splinters,
And boards torn up,
And places with no carpet on the floor—
Bare.
But all the time
I'se been a-climbin' on,
And reachin' landin's,
And turnin' corners,
And sometimes goin' in the dark
Where there ain't been no light.
So, boy, don't you turn back.
Don't you set down on the steps.
'Cause you finds it's kinder hard.
Don't you fall now—
For I'se still goin', honey,
I'se still climbin',
And life for me ain't been no crystal stair.