Lost in the now

In past I dwell as I feel lost,
through lanes of memories I go
away from all that is the now.
With much, too much forgotten pain
my place is in the cellar of my mind.

I now am archivist who works
in underground and moldy rooms
where daylight never comes to me.
I place the files on rolling shelves.
Don’t try to find me, this is home a while.

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Comments on: "Lost in the now" (16)

  1. I love your poetry that explores what we all have in common, yet often times afraid to view: the deep dark place of memories.

    • Hi Walter,
      thank you very much. I find that place a cellar full of spiders and damp. But at times, we need to be there I suppose :)

  2. Underground in a mouldy room, not very nice.

  3. Beautiful,
    it is the now, which defines what we would become…it is ok to be “away” for a while

  4. Hmmm, Ina. I trust you are not in the cellar now, but looking back at the cellar with the eye of an excellent poet. This particular poem has a feeling of classic poetry, looking at the self with a self revelatory lens and then using the revelation seen to relate to the reader in a way, sometimes with shock, that leads them to recognize themselves and the common humanity between poet and reader. Good work, as usual.

    • Hi Thomas
      Thank you very much. No I am not in the cellar now, although I do peak downstairs at times :) I am very honoured that you mention classic poetry in one sentence with my poem :)

  5. Ina, i only visited your site today…first time! Your poem is amazing and soft and beautiful in a special way! I enjoyed it and i am quite sure i will love many more!

  6. Lovely poem…

  7. ‘I now am archivist who works
    in underground and moldy rooms’

    Yes, it feels like that sometimes…and not all that bad when needed for the creative life…

    And very Zen…to be…’Lost in the Now’!

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