Creativity, Healing, poetry

A Plague of Memories-Poem

 

A Plague of Memories-gettyimages.com
A Plague of Memories-gettyimages.com

 

For the last six weeks, I’ve brought my cellphone to bed with me.
Sounds weird, but what I’m really bringing is meditation from Deepak Chopra and Susan Piver of the Open Heart Project.

Meditation has been a tremendous help in easing stress.

Last night, I stumbled upon a series, Healing with the Masters, that I really enjoyed.

The featured one, a free meditation, was quite new to me. The audio was from Raquel Spencer, who works on connecting with your higher self, body energy, and vibration.

I know, sounds so ‘new agey,’ but I can only tell you my experience.

It was awesome, I felt refreshed, slept very well and found it stimulated creativity.

I woke, in the middle of the night, reach for my cell and jotted down words in my notes section.

Although I don’t feel broken hearted or grief-stricken, these are the words that came to me last night:

A Plague of Memories

 

I kiss my grief

and long for you

undeserving as that may be

 

A plague of memories

chases me

until I stop

examine each

 

A waste of kisses

the grief mine

for trusting you

once again.

 

Have an adventurous week. 

Family, Family time, Inspiration, Latino Family Traditions, poetry, Poetry Month

Poetry On Wednesday-Nostalgia

 

Summer days at the river
Summer days at the river

Warmer weather has me thinking of summer. Summer, when I was a kid. A long time ago.

We were poor in funds, rich in family, and too young to know or care that some kids went away to summer camp.

We camped too, by the river or at Salton Sea (my least favorite place), sleeping on blankets inside or outside a tent—if there was one.

Tios, tias, primos/Uncles, aunts, cousins gathered together a few times during the sweltering summers in Pomona, California.

I don’t know if there is such a thing as a ‘memoir’ poem, but my nostalgia for the summer days of childhood brought these words:

 

Sounds of Summer

 

Salty air, scorching sand

burning toes,

scents of sulfur

linger over Salton Sea

 

Picnics on Cucamonga river

sage scented air

mesquite smoke

earthy campfire coffee

aromas cross-bred forever

 

Sprays of cool water,

float over inner tubes

sunburned skin,

cutoff shorts

trencitas

braids

 

Slippery river rock         

pollywogs tickling feet

water spiders causing shrieks

kids dash, splash, laugh

 

Watermelons wedged between rocks

sticky sweet juice drips over 

dusty smiling faces

don’t swallow the seeds

images of tiny melons planted in bellies

 

Corn silk floating beside

shucked leaves piled high

diced green chiles

juicy tomatoes

pungent onions

the click clack of knives against cutting boards

 

White hot glowing embers

full stomachs on cool nights

warm ponchos, cold beer

a seat in the circle of camping chairs

 

Stories among the songs of long ago

no s’mores, but

smiles of contentment while

campfire smoke drifts

into memory

 

flower seeds crack

salty lips, drowsy eyes

flashlight shadow puppets 

on tent covered walls

sounds of family 

sounds of summer

 

 

What do you remember of your childhood summers?