Our memories blanket me like a coat,
(vibrant and damp) with shades
of you suspended in time—
Was that a year ago or ten?
…
Now I remember. It was neither.
It was 1907.
…
Little did I know at the time I was
standing before our art— timeless,
captured, frozen—
…
Visions are weightier than imagination.
…
Love is a child: infantile yet grows.
The Prayers for it were lax, for why should
they have been fervent, as such Innocence should
survive. The Prayers were never for its safety.
They were spoken Prophesy— Fated Destiny,
most cruel and beautiful when Death and Life and
Sensuality in the most purest sense would
exist side by side, suspended in equilibrium.
…
You are within my walls—
…
a familiar face and
a stranger— and both hurt—
…
Now mornings stream words of you
like a seamless prayer—a habit—
and I write them down because it was
between words and lines where we once
exchanged our hearts with one another— it’s
the only way I know how to find you again.
This piece was written and inspired by two: 1) the painting Hope II by Gustav Klimt, which I had the pleasure of seeing the original in New York at the MOMA ten years ago; and 2) a man I met around the same time who showed me the truest form of love. In conjunction with this poem, the spoken word of “Find Me” by Forest Blakk (which I happened upon just a couple of months ago) placed me back in time as I revisited what was a sealed up time capsule of wonderful memories and love. One link here is most haunting and much felt when just listening to it along with reading the words; the other gives a visual that’s quite provoking and unforgettable— just like the love we once shared that has become a timeless piece of art in my Hall of Memories.
—Much love to you, JM, without regrets. I am most thankful when I think of you.
Forest Blakk’s “Find Me”
Photo Painting is Hope II by Gustav Klimt (1907)