night and memories

night and the lights go out as
i wander through the rooms
and remember this space
but not just this one, oh no
my thoughts tend to roam
the halls of every home i
have ever known exploring
all the rooms where i have
ever slept sat supped viewing
each cheaply framed photo
that grayly indents every wall
my fingers tracing the spines
of every book on every shelf
my eyes stare out the windows
watching people passing by
dodging thousands of cars
in San Francisco and Salinas
in Fukuoka and Eskişehir
in İstanbul and even Çeşme
my tongue tastes once more
the pirozhki outside the park
the yaki niku down the street
the pide near the campus and
my ears can still hear them
all of them, all their voices
telling me of their gentle days
warning me to dress warmly
urging me to try again, just
try and while i long to affirm
their wishes and abide a while
i cannot but weep at this too
feeble heart, this rending flesh
and with a cracking voice
i lock the door behind me
and whisper into the dark
how very sorry i am for this
to each and every one of you
how sorry i am that i lack
the strength of you, i simply am
empty of your calm endurance
your ensuring affirmations
being only who i now am and
who i have surely ever been
please forgive me but i really
cannot do this anymore

Salt Lake City 25 Nov 2012


5 thoughts on “night and memories

  1. It is a beautiful collage of emotions (I’m sorry for using such words).
    How do you bring such words to life? I can only imagine the fragments of life.
    It is a moment to be in silence, and you will rework life in flowers of love. You are George, and you will be. Embrace your words, and moments will unfold. You have love in abundance, share it.


    • Pawan, I tremble at the heart that perceives me so generously as you do. “Life in flowers of love.” Love blossoms so far beyond me. I have been fortunate to play a very earthy role in this life–the soil in which a seed or two has been planted. Sometimes I think how much more colorful life could be if I were the very blossom. How much sweeter the scent that floats on this breeze. How much healthier the limbs that reach upward. But I remain down here, my friend. Watching the trees grow about me. Watching with love. And a little envy.


      • You are presenting yourself as a human, and you are real enough than others in depicting your emotions. We can observe our mind, and we can create beautiful world with a single heart. Your journey is fruitful, George. It is to be — to be.

        Blessings and love. 🙂


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