9 comments on “This week’s theme: AMNESIA

  1. Hello, Gabriela & Misha

    I’m K. Cotton aka blue angel from Poetry Lovers at Scribophile. This is my second visit here, and I’m glad to see the art of poetry in the limelight. Great job with the site, by the way 🙂 I see this weeks prompt is ‘Amnesia’. Interesting subject. I immediately think of ‘Anastasia’ the classic movie, which intrigued me as a young girl. I think the thought of having a clean slate/ starting fresh with a new identity is the main lure for me. There’s something magical about it – outside of having to receive a head injury, lol. I’ll see if I can create a poem from this inspirational theme.

    Thanks for sharing your link, Gabriela

    • Thank you, K. You and Gabriela have inspired me to try Scribophile as well. The online writing community can be so supportive. I appreciate your input!

      • Scribophile is a great community for writers. Yet, the poets and poetess’ in my group are desiring to be able to share poetry freely (no karma required) as you two have offered with this setup. I commend you for that. One more thing, those are two very remarkable poems you ladies have written below (Lethe & To Those Mothers Who Smothered their Stones) Very creative and relatable. Stones as Dreams, the weight of that. wow. Awesome metaphorical crafting in both pieces.

  2. Lethe

    The boat undulates softly,
    Anemic waves slapping the sides
    Like a quiet knocking,
    “I’m still here, I’m still here.”

    Glancing down at her bent frame
    Staring into the black,
    He yearns to wrap her
    In his tattered cloak, all the while
    Wanting to whisper, “There, there.”

    There was no retiring, no pension to be had.
    And never was it more than a job.
    Until now, until this girl
    Who paid her fare to cross the water,
    Secretly begging to be drowned.
    A murmur escapes her cracked lips,
    “Anywhere. Would have followed him anywhere.”

    Sobs wrack her shoulders,
    Sadness seeps from her eyes,
    He can feel her low-lidded desperation,
    As she scans the murkiness
    “Nowhere, he’s nowhere.”

    The ferryman considers mercy for this one,
    A wish he denies even himself
    Each oar stroke of agony he traverses.
    But this one stirs waters
    Running still and deep within,
    Something about her awakens a memory aeons old.
    Yes, this one he would gift with a drink,
    While he muses,
    “Everywhere. I would take this one everywhere.”

    As she scoops the black liquid
    Into her trembling hands,
    He quietly breathes, “Forget him. Forget.”

  3. To Those Mothers Who Smoothed Their Stones

    I want to grab you by the shoulders
    demand to know why you left it all behind

    Did you forget?
    Could you forget?
    All those facets
    blinding gemstone cuts
    talent, ferocity, flame
    You barely made your mark here
    before you blew your own candles out

    Did you forget?
    Yes, about who you hoped to be
    All those lost aspirations
    you thought comforted you
    when to my eyes
    they instead glance longingly
    shed a little tear
    and resettle in new bowls
    for the hungry to take

  4. I wish there was a medical procedure that could eliminate selected memories. Why can’t we forget the sorrowful memories, while the moments of pleasure just become absorbed into our being.

    • I think about that too but then there is this idea that without that sadness we would somehow live less fulfilling lives…that pleasure is only pleasurable because we have some scale on which to compare it?

      Though it’s true that bad memories seem to stay with us longer. They get somehow cemented. Good point. I wonder why that is.

  5. Thanks, K! And Saige, I often think the same thing. Have you seen that movie “eternal sunshine of the spotless mind”? What was interesting to me is that it shows that the mind can forget but that the heart always remembers. Do you find that? Little signs, a song lyric, a random horoscope, anything… Can stir a memory that brings forth a feeling that you thought was long-forgotten, deeply hidden. It kind of sucks but every once in a while, it’s nice to roll around in it. I dunno, maybe I’m nuts 😉


Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s