Thursday, May 18, 2006

In Memoriam or On The Repatriation Of A Dear Friend

We sit down to eat, in the absence of our friend.
This meal becomes more
than just nourishment.

We use the spices he used; they flavor
our lives, and his old apartment, in which we now sit,
is suffused with their aromas.

I look around
and recall the chaotic state it was in,
when he was forced to go. The tiles
on the walls, then gritty and opaque,
now shine, and reflect our faces.

I say to my friend, “It’s almost as if,
he was never here. . . .”

But in the reflections, we see him too,
in the dawn’s early light, eating
a hearty meal, all of us, tired
but not yet ready to rest
our minds, racing, and our bodies,
tense with potential, wanting
to experience more of all this,
not wanting it ever to end. . . .

“That was so much fun,
wasn’t it?”

Neither of us lifts our forks. Our food
begins to get cold. The water in our glasses
is still.

That was so much fun.

We don’t look at each other. Instead, we face
the open door, see the vast sky, the shimmering city
he loved so much.

It’s almost mystical, but we resolve,
in silence, to savor this
delicacy; our lives!


Ergo Sum said...

Hahahaha! This poem is so funny!!

innommable said...

I thought you might enjoy it!

Ergo Sum said...

You should've called it "Masala Memories" or something like that!

innommable said...


Ergo Sum said...

How come you haven't written any poems recently?

Jerry Johnson said...

How beautiful to read this again and re-live those memories.

Recently, I have been invited around various cities to read some of my poetry. I narrated this story of separation and read out some of the poetry that it inspired. I read out "Living Like Gods," "Gethsemane," and "An Epitaph for my Memories of you"

Can I add your poem to this narrative? It will be a beautiful aside. And of course, you will be cited as the author--another poet's perspective on the same story.


Luis said...

Of course! Add! Add away! *hugs*