Open/close side menu
C.C. Hogan

Forgetting - Poem

Comment on this article

If I forgot that it was morning
and the towering sky was arched over
and the sunlight that warmed was aching
and the leaves that sang still whispered
and the wind that stroked still howled
and the grass that touched still grew
and the flowers that stared still caressed
and the birds that drank still waited
and the fox that glanced still hunted
and the worm that died still fed
and the mouse that froze still wanted
and the walls that stopped still stood
and the rug that lay still smiled
and the clothes that fell still covered
and the sheets that wrapped still wrinkled
and the skin that held still trembled
and the face that rested still slept
and the lips that touched still parted
and the breath that soothed still warmed
and the song that murmured still cried
and the moment that pained still needed
and the night that passed still echoed
and the touch that sated still called
and the voice that possessed still beckoned
and the joy that shocked still comforted
and the words that promised still held

and if I forgot everything
and I knew nothing
and I started again
and I saw the day anew
and I watched the morning smile
and I felt the sun open the day

Would you still be here?

See Also


    Please feel free to comment - no anger, no bad vibes, no trashing people. Just sit around, enjoy a flagon of bear and mull over the world You can login with Disqus, Facebook, Twitter or Google.

    Deep in the Dark Forest

    Keep up with my Podcast

    Series One & Two are out now!

    Start series one with Dirt for Free, and start reading the brand new series two with Girls of Dirt for only 99p!

    Girls of Dirt includes a recap of series one.

    Get it now at the Dirt website

    The Stink Is Here

    North London, 1976. The longest, hottest summer on record. The water is running out and the kids hate their parents. Which bunch of idiots would think it is a good idea to start a band?

    The Stink

    Visit The Stink Website