SO true! I map my life in this apartment, write in books, wonder how much to pass on before I leave, dog-ear days to remember and share them with the moon who is always coming and going in searh of some other sun. I’m keeping this one. It’s a wonderful site! And you see in marvelous ways.
We are none of us truly gone, but live on in the memories of lives we’ve touched along the way. Your poem echoes the thoughts of many who near life’s end and question what it’s all about.
How I love “the house will begin to forget, one dog-eared corner at a time”, and then that faithless moon, shining through the tamarind tree. How beautiful, Rajani!
It’s the strangers erasing my fingerprints that disturbs me when I think of my own death, so I have considered divesting myself of everything before I die. However, let’s be realistic: Death will probably catch me unawares, and all that I possess will be left for someone else to paw through. It really won’t be my problem, though, will it? 😉
This really touched me on the mysteries I find myself thinking about … the things in the landfill…. the name in the books being read out loud…the shameless moon … while the poem lives on. Excellent.
When it hung on the nail behind the door, he was shrunken, diminished, swallowed by loud kitchen voices, rambunctious brass and copper pots, their warm bottoms patterned with soot;………….A really good read, I so enjoyed this stanza. And congrats’ on having your wrok punblished, quite exciting for you.
Exciting indeed..thanks Julian. I had shared the first poem “A search with words” earlier with the group. Glad you got to read it now. Much appreciated.
Your poetry is well-deserving of wider publication. The prose poetry has a timeless quality, the thoughts in monologue convey a range of emotions. It is a piece I can relate to very well.
THOUGHT PURGE 
Congrats! Lovely!
LikeLike
Thanks Ayala…
LikeLike
Congratulations, Rajani…
Elizabeth
LikeLike
Thank you Elizabeth.
LikeLike
Incredible writing … piercing and penetrating … a fascinating read.
LikeLike
Thanks so much Wendy.
LikeLike
SO true! I map my life in this apartment, write in books, wonder how much to pass on before I leave, dog-ear days to remember and share them with the moon who is always coming and going in searh of some other sun. I’m keeping this one. It’s a wonderful site! And you see in marvelous ways.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks Susan..that’s very kind.
LikeLike
So hauntingly real and thoughts I have had myself as I age….you wrote this so beautifully.
LikeLike
Thanks so much Donna.
LikeLike
Moving on creates such images in our heads, it opens our eyes to see things in way we didn’t before… love the vividness of this.
LikeLike
Thanks Magaly 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Wow! Rajani Radhakrishnan… Thank you “thotpurge”
LikeLike
Thanks ZQ 🙂
LikeLike
We are none of us truly gone, but live on in the memories of lives we’ve touched along the way. Your poem echoes the thoughts of many who near life’s end and question what it’s all about.
LikeLike
Thanks so much Beverly..
LikeLike
How I love “the house will begin to forget, one dog-eared corner at a time”, and then that faithless moon, shining through the tamarind tree. How beautiful, Rajani!
LikeLike
Thanks so much Sherry.
LikeLike
OMG! WordPress let me comment this week!
LikeLike
Finally !! 🙂
LikeLike
It’s the strangers erasing my fingerprints that disturbs me when I think of my own death, so I have considered divesting myself of everything before I die. However, let’s be realistic: Death will probably catch me unawares, and all that I possess will be left for someone else to paw through. It really won’t be my problem, though, will it? 😉
LikeLike
So I tell myself too!! Thanks Magic!!
LikeLike
This really touched me on the mysteries I find myself thinking about … the things in the landfill…. the name in the books being read out loud…the shameless moon … while the poem lives on. Excellent.
LikeLike
Thank you Colleen 🙂
LikeLike
A really strongly vivid depiction! Can picture the thoughts running through the person’s mind.
LikeLike
Thanks Mary 🙂
LikeLike
When it hung on the nail behind the door, he was shrunken, diminished, swallowed by loud kitchen voices, rambunctious brass and copper pots, their warm bottoms patterned with soot;………….A really good read, I so enjoyed this stanza. And congrats’ on having your wrok punblished, quite exciting for you.
LikeLike
Exciting indeed..thanks Julian. I had shared the first poem “A search with words” earlier with the group. Glad you got to read it now. Much appreciated.
LikeLike
Congratulations!❤️
LikeLike
Thank you Sanaa 🙂
LikeLike
Your poetry is well-deserving of wider publication. The prose poetry has a timeless quality, the thoughts in monologue convey a range of emotions. It is a piece I can relate to very well.
LikeLike
Thanks so much Kerry, that’s very kind.
LikeLike
” his being only a promise of his absence,”…The whole poem seems to pivot around this and done so profoundly.
LikeLike
Death being a certainty..absolutely!! Thanks Sumana!
LikeLike
Great write …
LikeLike
Thanks so much Jae
LikeLike
Beautiful poem! I like the feeling of nostalgia-in-advance, and it also seems to me a great argument for living in the now.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks Rosemary. 🙂
LikeLike
Beautiful!
LikeLike
Thank you Hemanth..good to see you here!!
LikeLike
Congrats, and warm greetings!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks so much 🙂
LikeLike