This poem, is a different version of a poem I had written few years back. I modified it for a Poetry Slam that I performed yesterday night. (It was my first slam, what a great experience 😀 )
You see, ever since I moved to Germany from India, I’ve come to realize the true meaning of the song “Let Her Go” by Passenger, “Only know you’ve been high when you’re feeling low, Only hate the road when you’re missing home, Only know you love her when you let her go”. This poem is about all that childhood nostalgia.
We often do daze out into a world of our own: into a pool of memories. This poem, is a short snippet about recollection of some of those moments.
Memories are a Blur
Memories are a blur Clinking vessels, hot food aroma, I think she’s here, Mom, what’s for breakfast ?
A question too loud, To wake me from a dream that was too clear, Memories are a blur.
Medusa, with her head of snakes, Still alive in a vivid image An image, I can’t forget Grandma’s stories circling in my head, Prince Perseus is now my favorite.
Warm winter sunshine, under her lap Grandma’s soft clear whisper, now only just a star Memories are a blur.
Cycling ! Cycling always meant with training wheels, Four is safe, four is strong Until one day, my cycle transformed into a “bi-cycle” My dad called it magic, Yet I knew, for me was complete tragic
I swore never to cycle the new bicycle, Unless he’d run behind And so he did.
His comforting footsteps grew fainter and fainter Memories are a blur
War fights and prison, Yet Grandpa, is such a soft sky-blue. He talks of worlds I can’t imagine, His tales are no less than any fiction.
Living legend with words so wise, In my head they often illuminate, Like calming waters in times of rage.
Yet sometimes, they fade, Memories are a blur.
Seagreen seagreen seagreen, Purple and mauve maybe, Crayons were my best friends Apart me Lizzy, Shizzy and Tinzz, Cat, Dog, Water, Soda Fizz
A time when no name was needed be a best-friend, To a time that’s so grey that you can hardly comprehend Memories are a blur.
From shallow city to lively hills, From incandescent fake lights to real sunshine, Long train rides And sloping roads, Man, those, were the days.
From the bright morning with lush green tea gardens, To dark night with sparkling fireflies, Crickets chirping on the backdrop of stream gushing
Memories are a blur.
Hugs and kisses, Love and laughter, Rainbows and Unicorns in such abundance
Kaleidoscope of memories, They shift in size and shape Yet they remain, Clouding my mitrochondrial little brain
Memories are a blur.
Memories are a blur, Of people, places and time, Of trust and faith that were once sublime, Memories are a blur.