Kingsbrae 16.1
16 June 2017
This Old Man
This old man, with his bundle of memories
carried on his back like a snail carries his shell,
a broken record, he played, with the gramophone needle
stuck in a groove and the same tales repeated.
The ancient mariner who lives in his brain
stops people in the street and retells
the old story: life’s doldrums where
no winds blew and his ship just drifted,
with no wind to bring it home.
Then blew the wind of change, and suddenly
the sun was just as warm as it was in his youth.
The sea became blue again. Flowers flourished
brighter, stronger. Birds chirped in the trees.
Light grew bright and he felt beauty return to
the new-born world of his second childhood.
Comment: My journal tells me that I wrote the original version of this poem on Friday, 21 April 2017, and posted it to my blog on Sunday, 23 April 2017 . Today’s rewrite changes the structure and tone of the poem and illustrates how time and place can influence any previously generated word sequence. For time and place we can also substitute attitude and change of heart, as Ludwig Wittgenstein suggests. More important, perhaps, our attitude and outlook can change with the weather and the state of our digestion. This is the same poem, then, written by the same person, on two different days. Or was it the same person? My stay at this residency would suggest that perhaps the person has changed along with his attitude, his outlook, his digestion, and the weather.
rogermoorepoet 
This one for me! I vote with brevity and to me less is more! Much more readable. The photo works.
Is it you??
Dwight
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Hi Dwight. Yes, that’s me. I was writing in the Red Room at Kingsbrae International Residency for Artists last June when the photo was taken. That’s when I wrote the poem too. This was the first version, and probably the best. It’s so easy to revise the good stuff out. Thanks for commenting. Much appreciated.
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You are welcome! Looking good!!
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Dear roger!!age is just a number.it is not able to affect the life.
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Too true, Aruna: that is why I write about the renovation of a ‘second childhood’ and a new vision of life. To a certain extent it is re-possession by means of memory.
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U r right.dear roger!!
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Ah, ha! We got you on a photo at last.
And willy nilly blowing (The Rubaiyat); wind of change.
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I knew you’d be the one to pick that up! Good for you … I’ll read the Rubaiyat tonight, online, just for that. writing going well and I am pleased about it.
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LOVE THE PHOTO. And the poem – especially the reference to the Ancient Mariner. I am craving, though, some indication of what caused the change in perspective, the second childhood…
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Great to see you here again, Judy. I think the stay in the residency has brought about many changes in my writing and outlook. In the poem, the wind of change is the key … and who knows what comes with the wind of change? Nor from where nor why it blows!
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