:: the poetry I promised, like, a long time ago ::

(but only sort of, because it's only one.)

this past summer, I rediscovered trumbull stickney's 'mnemosyne' and couldn't get enough of it. I'm not really kidding here; I think I read it every day for more than one week (although I can't be sure about that). I read it a lot.

'mnemosyne' is haunting in a quiet, somber way; but the upshot of the poem doesn't seem to be unhappiness as much as the sadness of memory. memory is almost always sad, it seems to me. the memory itself may be good, but I always finish reliving those happy memories with this little sigh -- like, I'm not actually able to do it over again. once you're past, you can't go back.

anyway, I feel like stickney takes a very personal memory and opens it up to the reader, makes it a memory for us all to experience and relate to in our own way -- whatever our own memories, our own stories, he lets us remember them and feel the same sort of sadness.

read the poem, in the link above.

then watch this haunting (in its own way) video, 'mnemosyne' put to music by ljova and the kontraband.

(trust me. it deals with a woman in an orange coat, drinking a coke, and walking far out into the misty country.)