In the dusty hard soil of my mind
I lay out a string grid on mental land
twenty miles square to see what I might find.
I begin to dig using the tools at hand.
With ice pick, paint brush, tooth brush
I get through the loosened soil
to find the remnants, fossils and rust
I may have forgotten there after years of toil..
It is no easy task from today taking stock
of a past forgotten, melted away
to impression now turned to rock
after so many passed by lived days.
I know there once was someone I had been
and I want to find that curious man again.
Gently layer by layer I dust the crust away
using the small tools in clumsy friendly hands.
What I might chance upon or find I can not say
yet whatever it once was, is buried in this land.
It may be a fool’s journey
but in my thinking each of us
need to break soil and occasionally
practice a bit of self archeology.
© M Durfee
1/13/12
Self archaeology--I get that. Digging deep and finding something old within but precious nonetheless.
ReplyDeletei think that is very wise...and a cool texture with the archeology....
ReplyDeleteFreud described the process of psychoanalysis in that way. But maybe some things are better buried.
ReplyDeleteMark, the mining of the mind can be scary!!x
ReplyDeleteToothbrush? Crust? Ewwww!
ReplyDeleteOk, now that I've got that out of the way, I totally agree. A little introspection is a good thing.
Funny,
ReplyDeleteI was just thinking the same.
Addled minds think alike? :)
But I plan to write a novel on this kind of mental workout.
I might have to write you an email for advice. You seems to have focused on something.
WM -- sometimes the archeology of the mind just "burps" up stuff that takes one by surprise -- and it's not always good. But like the 49ers one small glint of long forgotten gold is worth the slag. Always a pleasure to see what's "burping" up for you! R
ReplyDeleteI think perhaps I do too much digging at times. I'm actually trying to actively stay away from the shove while scanning the horizon for what may lay ahead.
ReplyDeleteI was thinking the other day that I have been having a difficult time remembering what is was like to be in my twenties. I have hung a few snapshots of that period up in my mind that have calcified and faded from all the traffic of recollection that has passed through those "snapshots". But what was I doing in between the snapshots? What was I thinking and feeling? I can't recall. Incidentally, unlike every other period, childhood, teen, late teen, my thirties, all which I remember well, it's the only period of my life I have not written about. The question is, do I remember those periods because I wrote about them (mined them) or did i write about them because I remembered them?
ReplyDeleteYes!
ReplyDeletehttp://comfortspiral.blogspot.com/2012/01/fairy-wisdom.html
Dig Myself?
ReplyDeleteSounds like a self absorbed Beatnik!
But YOU my friend are The Poet of our Generation!
(as well as The Voice)
That is something to ponder. I would like to unearth the inoccence from many years ago and the idealism. Other things I would prefer to stay buried..
ReplyDeleteSeems like this stuff just flows naturally and need not be mined or uncovered. Washed in a sea of fragments and flotsom . . .
ReplyDeleteBut maybe that's just me.
Not a fool's journey. Even the smallest shard (of understanding) is a treasure...
ReplyDelete"self archeology" - I love that. Yes, it's a good practice to indulge in from time to time.
ReplyDelete