I have a dream. I will write something that reads like music: soft and melodic with energy and spirit. It will soar off the page, circle the room, and land softly on the heart.
Thousands will read it, and the lips of history will repeat it.
Sharron, its funny you mention this because with me anyway, the sense of smell has always been
the dominant sense that triggers déjà vu type moments. For others it might be sights or sounds. Whichever it is though, its a real phenomenon. The human mind is an amazing mystery. - Jim
Well, I flunked those, haha - but they are your own. I think everyone has different triggers and different memories tied to them. Another mind-boggling thing is when you hear someone say something, or you have a short conversation with them, and you can just swear you remember it from the past. To the point where you know what you, or them, are going to say.
Sometimes definitely: just read the book "A Woman is no Man" which wraps constraints around displaced Palestinians--although fiction, it has power of how those constraints of culture and heritage pull and then...maybe...like a rubber-band stretched too tightly...they are released.
To this day, any time I smell cigarette smoke, I’m brought back to my grandmother’s kitchen table, and I’m listening to her tell me stories. What a powerful piece!
Cigarette smoke. It used to be a part of every child's life. We just thought that was the way the world smelled. It has totally disappeared from Santa Cruz. I am happy to hear that some of your own story-telling art is hereditary. Now you are passing it down to your daughter like so much DNA. Beautiful.
It has essentially vanished over here in my neck of the woods, as well. I’m thankful for its disappearance but also thankful for the memories! That’s very kind of you, my friend.
Beautiful Sharron. Brought a memory of my father who would sing these nonsense ditties with no beginning or end. “Little Old Lady passing by” thanks for the mis-tuned banjo
Sharron,
The spoken word creates an atmosphere of longing. I love it.
Joel
Thank you, Joel! I am glad if it sparked something in you.
I have a dream. I will write something that reads like music: soft and melodic with energy and spirit. It will soar off the page, circle the room, and land softly on the heart.
Thousands will read it, and the lips of history will repeat it.
Well, hell, Joel! If you are going to dream, dream BIG, I say! That's the spirit!
Sharron, its funny you mention this because with me anyway, the sense of smell has always been
the dominant sense that triggers déjà vu type moments. For others it might be sights or sounds. Whichever it is though, its a real phenomenon. The human mind is an amazing mystery. - Jim
I am with you 100% on olfactory memory. I will give you four phrases as a test.
puppy's breath
little boy's sweat
the pre-injection alcohol swab
rotting orange peels
I can smell all four clear as if they were in the room. Can't you?
Chanel .#5, vanilla.
Yes. Exactly!
Well, I flunked those, haha - but they are your own. I think everyone has different triggers and different memories tied to them. Another mind-boggling thing is when you hear someone say something, or you have a short conversation with them, and you can just swear you remember it from the past. To the point where you know what you, or them, are going to say.
Yes. I have experienced that. Spooky deja vu
Ouch that hurts. I'm the oldest of my clan. I don't want to think about this.....
No, me neither. Sorry. I just had to let it out this morning.
Hugs on ya
Melancholy memories. They do put one in a wistful mood. Like looking at a photo album and feeling the sadness there amid the growth.
Yes, exactly - sweet / bitter.
💚💚💚
Thanks, Jack!
Yep, that is the way of it.
And the sun still rises every morning and life goes on.
Fifty words…fifty thoughts. I’m impressed as always how to squeeze in so much thought and emotion. Beautiful
Thank you, Jill. I think you can learn as much from having restraints as you can from total freedom. Not sure.
Sometimes definitely: just read the book "A Woman is no Man" which wraps constraints around displaced Palestinians--although fiction, it has power of how those constraints of culture and heritage pull and then...maybe...like a rubber-band stretched too tightly...they are released.
I'm intrigued.
So true that certain smells or sounds can bring memories flooding back.
patchouli
herbal essence shampoo
baby powder
How about you?
Oh yes, herbal essence, 1974. Her name was Rene. Oh Lord!
👍🏻
Sharron, I never knew of this one! It moved me so! It’s like you touched on a chord that was perfectly tuned to my heart.
Thanks, sister!
The senses! For me the sense of smell is very important! A scent can bring me the past in one sniff!
Yes, me too. The smell of a certain bush, when I walk by it! Instantly I know where I was, when, with whom, and doing what! Like a breaking wave.
To this day, any time I smell cigarette smoke, I’m brought back to my grandmother’s kitchen table, and I’m listening to her tell me stories. What a powerful piece!
Cigarette smoke. It used to be a part of every child's life. We just thought that was the way the world smelled. It has totally disappeared from Santa Cruz. I am happy to hear that some of your own story-telling art is hereditary. Now you are passing it down to your daughter like so much DNA. Beautiful.
It has essentially vanished over here in my neck of the woods, as well. I’m thankful for its disappearance but also thankful for the memories! That’s very kind of you, my friend.
A beautiful expression of the old saying: Those who have touched us are never really gone. Loved this line: "the echo of an mis-tuned banjo."
Thank you, my friend.
Beautiful Sharron. Brought a memory of my father who would sing these nonsense ditties with no beginning or end. “Little Old Lady passing by” thanks for the mis-tuned banjo
Thank you for reading over here at 🌿LEAVES, Tim. I am so glad this poem evoked a memory of your own. ( Mission accomplished. )
That says it all.
Yep. That pretty much sums it up. Thanks, Janice.
Rich in the senses!
Thanks for reading my poem, Nathan.