Muddled Memories, Traps of the Mind
This kind of follows on from the previous post (Magic memories, Tricks of the Mind). It’s another memory poem. One that I was reminded of. And feel nostalgic for. There was a feature about a woman who’d gone back to live in the place she’d grown up in, a place of which she had magical memories, only to find the real place and the place of magical memories were not the same. We could all have warned her, I’m sure.
Which isn’t to say we won’t need someone to warn us, too, when it comes to it.
This is the place. But not how I remember.
All memories are made up (though I must add parenthetically
I’m not talking false memory - I mean made up cosmetically)
A little bit like ‘wash and go’ our double-action memory
will slap a ‘g’ on loss - add ‘gloss and glow’
‘It relishes and embellishes’
When we time travel to memory’s sites
It’s technical trespass - we’re caught bang to rights
We step into a cramped inverted tardis,
Like the grey-haired baby-boomer heard in Argos
saying ‘I remember when this when it was all Green Shields’
and yet, the grass back then was greener
the air was surely cleaner
and the thought of sex obscener…
our bodies were all bendier
the clothes we wore were trendier
the libraries were lendier
the germoline calendula
the good days were more buen día
the hanky then was pankier
small cotton squares were hankier
slices of wood… were plankier
[self-abuse was excellent]
down under was Australian
crop circles were more alien
pimples were more pustular
footballers’ thighs more muscular
the ecstacy was mescalin
the vicars were more masculine
and no-one had a barbell in their eyebrow
and radio 4 was still considered high-brow…
Nothing looks or sounds as luscious now as then
Except the opening chords of News at Ten…
I love the way it starts off vaguely reflective and half-way clever, then just goes off on one. I admit that I changed the last line because the original was too site-specific. And the line “the self-abuse was excellent” is in parentheses because it deserves to be. It’s an after-thought. Like this.
PS I admit the Argos link is misleading, but I oculdn’t bring myself to do a ‘proper’ one. Anyway it all becoomes clear if you click on the Green Shields link. If you only click on one link, however, make it the tardis link. Treat yourself to a true nostalgic frisson…
November 28th, 2007 at 4:54 am
I like it
These lines
the hanky then was pankier
small cotton squares were hankier
slices of wood… were plankier
remind me of this poem…
http://www.cs.rice.edu/~ssiyer.....s/360.html
November 28th, 2007 at 7:13 pm
Big Thanks botogol - I’m delighted the poem above reminded you of the John Whitworth poem you link to. I’d never read it before. Now I’m a fan. (It’s “I Wish you were a Wave of the Sea,” if anyone’s interested. I thoroughly recommend you click on botogol’s link).
And flattered, frankly.
Please call again!
December 13th, 2007 at 2:39 pm
Very nicely done, admired,amzed and speechless , again very nicely done.
December 15th, 2007 at 3:56 am
Thank you Tonia. You’re very kind.