The lost song


Memories have ways, wise ways.
Revealing some ,concealing some.

That little girl, those twinkling eyes
those flushed cheeks, Sun kissed.
The spring in her steps, the gay abandon,
those swaying ponytails, their own band
The rapt face , the unselfconscious smile
the untarnished heart , the unwieldy dance.
The Open mouthed, uninhibited intent,
that Group Song!

Memories have ways , cruel ways
Revealing some, concealing some

The music teacher, her ruthless refrain
"You can't sing ,leave.
You are completely out of tune!"
That chastising finger, singling her out,
the gaze that condemned, the indifference.
The inflamed cheeks, the blinking eyes
the unshed tears, the newfound fear.
The droopy pony tails , the tired gait ,
the leaden feet , the walk of shame !
The blue shirted boy, the sloppy grin
The wounding words
"You can't be that bad, what a brilliant act.
You are out and we have to carry on with
this sordid, group song!"
The lips that quivered ,that fake smile,
the conspiring wink , an act of will.
The first lesson in guile?
The end of innocence , beginning of pretence.

That was me, Was it really?
That wild little girl, I don't know her at all.
Devoured, Little by little, she has now completely
All but Disappeared!
That was the day, was it really?
When I started shrinking? losing my voice?

Memories haveways wicked ways
Revealing some, concealing some

Meticulously made up face, blow dried hair,
carefully placed, In high heels, Clad just right,
Controlled words, with measured steps
in the songless street, I tread.

I now can, never be caught
in an unflattering light,
leave nothing to chance.
To my weary wobbly feet ,
the ankles that hurt,
the Soul that aches,
I don't deign a glance.
I don't wince or cry aloud
since stone feet must plod on!

Memories have ways sneaky ways
Concealing some revealing some

And the lost song?
At times I hear the distant beat
The urge to unfurl
Kick off the shoes that constrain,
Undo the pins, wipe that war paint
Off my face, let my hair down
flow unrestrained
declare peace with all that exists
within and outside
burst into a song without a care
artless or harmonious
And just as it threatens to escape,
Unbidden, the ominous voice resonates,
"You can't sing. You aren't good enough".
Squashing ,before it's too late

Memories have ways constricting ways
Revealing some, concealing some
meta- cognition, reflections ,introspection,,
have ways too , questioning ways

In what kind of a world is the song of the heart
trampled upon?
Why must people cut, chisel, change
to fit?
Why can't a heart be allowed ,
it's own beat?
Why must love, art, ponytails, wild passion
be contained?
Why must words, songs, people be chained
Why can't it allow, a tuneless song
a barefoot unbecoming dance

Memories have brutal binding ways,
revealing some, concealing some.

The fear of slights , not getting it right,
the clipped wings ,the misgivings.
And yet, from a deep place within,
beyond all fear, perhaps,where the spirit
dwells, comes a resilience ,irrepressible
the heart swells, the life force unleashed
and unshackled the caged bird Sings.

Memories have ways ,transcendible ways
A stream of consciousness ,they can't withstand.

Poetry by Seema
Read 737 times
Written on 2017-06-01 at 17:28

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Ann Wood
Beautiful poem well done

one trick pony The PoetBay support member heart!
A hundred compliments can be crushed by one insensitive comment, and it seems life is an accumulation of such comments. But you found that resilience is irrepressible, and that is the comfort of your poem.