“Back and forth” loses meaning
When yesterday is no longer yesterday…
An empty house is a loud house
Not because of winds that graffiti its rooms
With wild æolian punk-designs
That scream – this belongs to us now.
No.
It’s the left-behind yesterdays
(sometimes known as memories)
They scream, waiting – waiting to be rescued
Knowing, they can’t be taken.
Shouldn’t be taken…
I rarely visit my old left-behind houses –
Each visit bleeds my ear. Some happy – some sad sounds.
So, I stay away, yet… I go back
For I am an eternal Son, never destined to be father
Searching the sky for a lost cloud
Even when the sun throws acid at me
Some houses have memory of clouds…
Some houses are no more –
They have been turned into parking lots and yet
Their screams can still be heard – listen
Somewhere yonder that stack of untidy cars
Wails a day of joy left behind…
Each empty room screams a story
Each abandoned building mourns
…and you go back and reclaim –
Only…
Reclaimed yesterdays don’t travel well. –
They float around like yellow drops of oil – never emulsifying;
Leaving a bitter after taste and making one long
For today – a today that’s escaped –
That’s always one step ahead
Creating an out of body experience
An out of body experience that feels
Like a natural state of existence
For is one ever centred?
When walking beside a reclaimed yesterday…
And trying to catch up with tomorrow.
Only when yesterday
(The screaming yesterday) is left behind
In its proper burial place
That we walk into our skin. Comfortable.
I buried my father many times
After the funeral.
Each time I visit his grave – I take him home with me
And each time my house felt even emptier.
Then I carry him back –
(back and forth lose meaning
When yesterday is no longer yesterday), so…
Its yesterday – it’s today –
It’s a chore – it’s repetition – its Gradus ad Parnassum
Till someday I will be able to visit his grave
And simply leave a rose on his tombstone.
Till someday I can visit my old left-behind homes
And hear the cries of yesterdays
And realize that
Each empty room screams a story;
Each abandoned building mourns
All that was yesterday and corpse.
Let them stay buried.
Let Chernobyl pull at your heart
Let Chernobyl be.
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