A list

Shuffle through the list of names

Faces, drifting away

Relegated long ago from current, now

Drifting in a sea of obscurity

And today the recent remembered,

Wait to join the queue of the forgotten

What memories you have

Locked, in the prison of the self

The mind’s stagnant focus

Capturing them as they were,

As you want them to be

Fractured statues of youth, now

Growing on some distant shore

Free from the eyes that time

Made fierce and cynical

Their absence, apparent

In the little days spent,

Observing the staccato punctuations of clocks

And wishing for reminders that they

Free from your desperate preservation

Have suffered too

Under the corset of age

But life’s vacancies fill

And now you have new faces,

New lists, short-term bonds

That strangle the past and wait

Complacently, to be strangled

Now we sit comfortable, as the present

Gnaws away passings, and faded photographs

Become less tattoos and more memorials,

Silhouettes of moments and spaces, past monuments

Fast becoming new routes to today’s

Arrogant characters and places

But, in vain, layers of triviality

Amassing like fossils, to be later buried

The present’s desperation, to be encapsulated

Perfectly formed, in the otherwise dusty

Museum of memories and mementos,

Embodies itself in friendship pacts

And photographs of fast passing eras

But behind smiles and daily reunion

All are marked with the unhealing scar

Of dormant obscurity, marked to be drowned

Waiting to join the queue of the forgotten

And become a face

In your most prestigious list

- by Halligan Quin

This entry was posted by Neil Keating, on Wednesday, 19 March 2008. You can leave your response.