Poem - Interpretations - Jody McMaster

By: Jody McMaster

I cant suppress all these memories. Why would I try?
The past, like a songbird perched matter-of-factly on my window sill.
Not to be neglected. Passed down, recorded, each one.
On blank pages are penned an account of my life.
Etched on my brain for eternity.

Each one so vivid, like a beacon in the darkest of night.
They are replayed on a stage set in my mind.
I can return again and again to each scene, or not. Prolonged or fleeting; or not at all.
I am the keeper of these abstract thoughts.

There is no moderation. Only anything and everything.
Like sacred writings, I will read until my senses are full.
Until each perception has been nurtured,
all my impressions have been completely and entirely saturated,
every sensation has been manipulated absolutely.

They will continue on their voyage. There is no lull.
They peak, and my intellect becomes intoxicated. They have come to anchor now.
A hushed calm occupies my will. All reflection recedes.
Back to the recesses of my intellect. But only for a brief intermission.
Nestled among exaggerations,secrets, and misinterpretations.

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