Poetic Time Travel

20141204_143126Happy first Friday in December. My life is still crazy and feels stuck in fast forward; how’s yours? This time of year always make me reminisce of times before and I was looking back at one of my first poetry journals. The journal itself holds special meaning to me because it was the first present I’d ever received from my hubby. We’d only been together a few months maybe and I remember when he gave me the journal I thought to myself he was special. He knew how much I liked to write and so thoughtfully gave me a special place to hold it. This poem comes all the way from 2001 and is one of the first ones I wrote in my journal that I felt good about sharing. I was an angst filled teenager when I wrote this, and it’s pretty good starting place. I copied the original version below and thought it would be fun to take the next week to edit it and show you the new and improved version next week. In keeping with the time travel theme, the poem is entitled ‘History’. There are definitely some words within the poem that need to be made history too. Hope you enjoy! Thanks for stopping in and finding time to read in the hustle and bustle of approaching Christmas. See you next week with the better version of ‘History’ with my edit notes!

❤ Melissa



With the last breath of day
and the kiss now of night,
I write history.
Falling into poetic criticism,
I am the historian.
Thinking of days before,
you are historic.
Confused at what I am doing,
I turn to liquid ink.
Allow the passage of unconscious thought
hoping that when I revive myself
this will hold the answers.
My undying weakness to be alone
prevails in the night air.
I need a walk to clear the haze
so I take the trail round the world
to find myself still lost in liquid ink.
I need a drink,
so I drown myself in water
to find I am still lost in liquid ink.
I need a moment
so I allow a million years 
to find myself still lost in liquid ink.
Knowing I possess the immortality
pouring out of the tips of my fingers,
I have written history.
I am the historian who knows no history
and you are the historic,
never recorded or simply forgotten.

One thought on “Poetic Time Travel

  1. Pingback: Poem Rewrite: “History” New and Improved | My Love Affair with Words

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