Too Many Lives to Count
They haunt my dreams,
these flickers of a movie reel,
memories I feel so deeply
in my state of disrepair,
it is as if my mind is leaking,
moments I have known
from lives disowned,
flow back to confuse me,
allude to misery and joy once known,
but not residing in my mind,
instead fed to refresh memories
owned yet separated in time,
like echoes, lost.
And who am I in these moments,
like I am now, what age,
what plight did I endure,
when I feel these familiar feelings,
see surrounding that I recognize,
but cannot relate directly,
and so I grasp at straws,
and know somehow I aught to know,
when my heart knows
and my minds is lagging far behind,
as they haunt my dreams,
give clarity unrivaled,
in this show of timeless ploy.
I close my eyes and there it is,
scenic flashes of parts unknown,
yet how I belong there,
straddled upon a horse, upon the prow of a ship
or at war in clashes of steel
that make me reel with fear,
and blood I can smell, like rusted iron,
covered as I am in dirt and sweat,
and victory flags held high elate,
while bodies strewn in fields
attract the flies,
and sadness wears a weighted burden,
as death overwhelms reality.
And in true love’s eyes, on bended knee,
I commit to honor and family, and marry,
to rule the harvests of my father’s father,
and with so many in my employ,
slaves and white lasses
to abide my home and every need,
and I for them a fair life given,
food and lodgings for their labor,
and I in suits of finest cloth,
to represent my lands with dignity,
and give my heirs a family name of certainty,
a political future in favor of standing,
long after I am gone.
Each life, like a script read,
comes into my head,
and my soul in recognition emotes,
and home I find in every one,
not words or deeds remembered,
but the feelings of my place in time,
my rhyme like a poem spoken
and understood for all it is,
from a soul who remembers
so many things, moments and more,
love so deep, anger so profound
and in desperation of folly,
fall to life’s end, over and over again.
Tony DeLorger © 2018
videos on YouTube and book sales on website thoughtsforabeautifulmind.com, Amazon and digitalprintaustralia.com.au/bookstore
- Brutal Night - March 30, 2021
- Like a Breeze Recalls - March 27, 2021
- Torrents - September 5, 2020
Never does the spirit forget past lives, and learns from each one. It is our present physical life that forgets, yet glimpses are allowed when the soul travels in time. I often have flashbacks to other lives and it is fascinating, at times frightening. Your verse is remarkable with excellent phrasing and vivid imagery Tony. It is great work dear friend and I so enjoyed it. Take care.
Much appreciated Phyllis, glad you related and enjoyed my expression. Cheers!