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To Forget
by Glenn Currier“Your poem may mean something to you
but it doesn’t mean anything to me.”
At first I reasoned it away:
It doesn’t rhyme so he doesn’t get it
but later it appeared as a sting
its venom circulating, percolating
the usual suspects in play:
“That thoughtless clod!” “Ignorant bastard.”
It was a hook lodged inside my darkness
each rumbling recall pulling me under.
Then I remembered what grandma said:
“Some things are best forgotten.”
This was a rock to drop off the cliff
into that fine fading mist of my memory.
The next time I rehearse a hurt
and feel the heat rising, maybe I’ll remember
to forget. 10/03/2011 Posted on 10/03/2011
Copyright © 2024 Glenn Currier
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 10/03/11 at 03:39 PM Nicely done monologue. A lot of great lines running around in this. |
| Posted by Jeffrey Parren on 10/03/11 at 06:39 PM Knowing you are good and knowing that others may never see you in the same light is just a part of this existence indeed. ~JPP |
| Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 10/03/11 at 10:18 PM Hmmm, that person has not read much of your work, or perhaps lacks poetic soul. Definitely someone best forgotten. |
| Posted by Joan Serratelli on 10/03/11 at 11:12 PM Wonderful concept. Wish I could do it. Great write! |
| Posted by Charlie Morgan on 10/05/11 at 01:50 AM ...nahahaha, cool write, mebrother. words we all chew and swallow (most of the time) glad you spat them out. |
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