The Healed Scar

An old memory

 

I check the place where you have been

to see the way I see my dreams

foolish man to expect it all

repeat all everything the way it seems

when nothing does

for all of us

start completion of petty schemes

 

Sign the way you hope to find

a tragic figure that stands behind

slyly tasked before you call

risked rejection when you've seen it blind

the choices come before the fall

the loss of things rarely of this kind

 

Once more to a breach I hope to feel

the rabid learning from this dead deal

the blasted joys, cream of concern

a lesser scar that time will seal

a solo trip that now fails to discern

the ending of the start within the real

 

Reviews

[Gandré]

This is my new favorite of yours. So subtle, so perfectly flowing and it is richly allusive. We allways hold this specific instance of feeling hopeful, on which our expectations are centred. I loved this poem "risked rejection when you've seen it blind" -------oh yes. and someone wrote I 've read somewhere, we love people who count their chances in advance and run as victor through their life...indeed, also this is something we have to learn and sometimes even we never learn it. beautiful poem!

[Emily B]

Do scars heal or just burrow deeper? That's what I want to know. You wonder, too. Scars are a reminder--that's all. A lesson branded too deeply to forget.

[Deborah Leah Krempa]

We bere many scars in life. Sadly so. Nice writing. Thank you for sharing. Debileah

[SM Davis]

A reminder of what we do not want to experience again. That is what a scar is. So there is indeed benefit to them. We learn, we become stronger for them, and we never forget how we got them. A wiser person we become because of the scars....and become educated on our responsibility in them....so that we do not repeat the experience.

This was very well written...emotive, yet not somber.

[R J Askew]

Hmm, scars. I dunno too much about scars, luckily. And I hope I have not caused any. The poem makes me wonder what it is like to have gone through whatever fight it was to cause the scars...voices raised, nostrils flared, eyes bulging, silences, war, kill be killed, move on...and then the remembering. Is that how it goes? The years pass and then the scar itself becomes a familiar curio. All part of life. I wonder if the absence of scars denotes a certain coolness of passion? A life half lived? An endless argument I imagine. Should a scarless life be seen as a tranquil blessing or evidence of dullness?

[Damien Dsoul]

This is quite and emotive, introspective piece you have here. More like you trying to dissect yourself sometimes in order to discover what underneath you find.

[Donald Meikle]

There's some georgie pourgie to this work, but apart from that it's right on for a mullin piece

[SPINNING ON that dizzy ..]

Ken

This is an excellent capture of this feeling of dealing with putting things in their place - to come to terms, to decide to move on, to say - that was then - this is now and there, over there - is the future. Of course, you would a wonderful nearly lyrical way of saying that!

Kath :)

[Siddartha Beth Pierce]

Such a profound and moving work. I, again, can empathize with these feelings as I feel I have been in this place before. Scars do heal but they leave behind the print of their will - just a reminder of where we have been like a wrinkle that places those old smiles on faces. Lovely write, Ken. Thank you for sharing your depth.
Light,
Siddartha

[emmajoy]

Whether factual or created, I feel there's so much behind these words

'I check the place where you have been .. to see the way I see my dreams .. foolish man to expect it all .. repeat all everything the way it seems .. when nothing does .. for all of us .. the completion of our petty schemes'

Presence and everything that goes along with it, disappears into a memory, and, right now, a very lonely one. And, it is lonely, isn't it...

When a poem touches my emotions, I find it hard to think about the technical side of it ... but, will add that the flow of your words is very gently rhythmic, thus, the meter's true from start to finish.

Sad, very sad. But finely, finely written. Thank you