#RETROSPECT #POETRY #PHOTOGRAPHY ©KHC 1999, 2012, GidgetWidget™
January 25th, 2012 Tags: photography poetry GidgetWidget™ image life verse memory dreams illusion ©KHC original work
The face of the girl on the bus. The smell of ripe peaches
rotting on wet grass. Asphalt shredding skin
on a knee fallen from a wobbling bicycle.
Products on random aisles in the supermarket.
Pages of math problems. Waffles for breakfast
three years ago Sunday. Every person
who ever passed you on the street stepping aside
January 07th, 2012 Tags: poetry memory Valerie Valdes
Figure I can do a better recording when I’m not sleepy. But for Rachel, I’ll post this last one.
January 06th, 2012 Tags: poetry spoken word live recording TS ELIOT Memory Rhapsody On A Windy Night
I don’t think most people understand what it’s like to lose your memory, to have things slowly blur until you have months turn into days. Worse yet you have memories of people, places, and events that don’t even exist.
With the white pill and the blue pill and my old friend Jack D I started…
November 16th, 2011 Tags: Beautiful Photography Art Life Risk Memory Image
An article (DROWNING DOESN’T LOOK LIKE DROWNING, here ) immediately triggered a repressed memory to resurface again; one I had not thought about for quite some time. I share it because of all the comments posted (almost 400 now,) no one has yet to mention a factor which all parents ought to keep in mind while vacationing with their children this summer.
When I was almost five years old, my brother still an infant, we had gone to vacation at the beach with our grandparents. I remember being left with a new, local babysitter one afternoon. She had an above ground pool in the backyard. For some reason, there were other children there, specifically older boys.
I just remember being in the pool with my Swimmies on and then, BAM! Something landed on me, hard and I was under the water, where I floated, gently, at the bottom. I remember feeling peaceful, looking at the blue siding of the pool and marveling at little bubbles I saw rising in front of me. Then, nothing.
I think I woke up inside the house, on the couch. I remember the room: the rug was sky-blue, the couch had a floral pattern on it, a picture window with the curtains partially drawn, a big floor TV-set…. There was arguing. One of the boys had jumped, off the side of the pool, and landed on my head/neck. The babysitter was arguing with another woman about how she was watching my brother, and the woman was supposed to watch me.
After that, I don’t remember much. (This was 25 years ago.) Except, a few months later (or more, I don’t know,) I mentioned it to my mother, in a passing conversation. “What,” she responded, “what do you mean? I was NOT told about this happening!”
To this day, my mother does not know what actually happened. Neither do I. The babysitter never told her. I think she explained I was not feeling well because of one reason or another. But I realize, now, perhaps an angel was watching out for me.
This article describes whatever it was that happened to me: I am right back to that moment under the water, watching the bubbles, feeling no fear but actually, peaceful. Then, nothing.
My question is: If I lost consciousness, and remember those moments under the water the way I do, and also, being unwell afterwards, WHAT HAPPENED? Could there have been minor neurological trauma? How can one know what to check, what to look for, if something like this happens either in the past or in the present to your child?
Be extra aware of leaving children with strangers, regardless if they are friends of the family or come recommended, etc…
Brilliant article and my most sincere gratitude for keeping us all informed about a common and yet, greatly misunderstood, danger. It WILL save lives. Please read it and share this information.
~Gidgie
June 04th, 2011 Tags: life childhood memory drowning education water safety parenting culture MMXI Reality Link Information Please reblog Retweet MUST READ family childcare silent killer tragedy Negligence Awareness
Do you remember me in white robes?
maudlin, mercurial, unkept
wrapped in Fantasy
reflected in moonlight
filled in by your regret
Are you ashamed of me now?
stained white hotel sheets
with unspeakable things
and my underweight frame
buried somewhere beneath
is it
in this
we become
another secret ………. more dangerous ?
IS THAT HOW YOU WILL CHOOSE TO REMEMBER ME?
a drunken late night currant
of Rioja Red, Montelpucciano
flowing into mischievous malfeasance
spilled over and running ruining
the last copy of our manuscript
THEN I AM ASHAMED I GAVE YOU THOSE MOMENTS
a gift so pure
from inside me
passing an obsequious and fierce youth
as wild as the heat of battle
wide-eyed …. feral …. struggling
rough hands gripped and pressed down my wrists
you liked it when I fought back
HOW COULD I HELP
the veracity outside our window
the warmth that came
then a shelter built from whispers
HOW CAN YOU BE ASHAMED
what do you remember me as….
or has the ink bled too much on the page
have you bleached
all color
with your guilt
my fingers flip thru blank white pages empty as if I dreamt it
lovely longing and letters
words at play with words
rekindling fire by phrases
SOMETHING DEEP INSIDE
A PLACE LONG FORGOTTEN
PERHAPS THOUGHT DEAD
NONETHELESS DORMANT
THAT WARMTH BREATHED LIFE INTO
WHAT GAVE LIFE TO THOSE MOMENTS
you and I are their only witness
how can you be ashamed for this?
In our shadows we are the shades of our passing selves
in the empty room where the white robes come and go
like the white sheets in endless
supply
The lights are going down
as two ghosts move about
with the creaks and echos
wondering what to do
FORGOTTEN MEMORIES
They are left behind and kept away trapped in that
Time and Space
They never thought it would turn out this way
Or that they were ever ghosts to begin with
Or anything was wrong in the first place.
© KHC, 2005
February 09th, 2011 Tags: poetry poem Shame Ghosts Affair Life Witness Youth Memory Moments secret dangerous short story gidgetwidget image photography gidgetwidget™ Sin ghost story
The one day of the year when all of us lay aside the ad hominem spit-spat, political-social-cultural hyperbole, partisan bickering, etc… to celebrate our mutual love for the ancient Greek Phalanx. Ah, American Football and THE SUPER BOWL.
How are you celebrating this year? Which Super Bowl do you remember best and why?
February 06th, 2011 Tags: gidgetwidget gidgetwidget™ Super Bowl Football USA Culture Celebration Question Memory USA MMXI trend News Sports
Take me back to the days when we would swing
from the branches of dogwood trees,
run down to the dock with our minnow nets
to check the crab pots,
or in early summer, before the jellyfish,
jump off the end of the wooden dock
into Peachblossom Creek
and swim across the river to the strand
to play in the tidal pools
until we were called in for supper
No one ever tells children the truth
that at some point
childhood dies
it happens slowly so you don’t notice
and once it’s dead, it’s gone forever
Days you can never have back
Freedom as pure as a summer’s evening
stripped away as naturally and steadily
as winter strips the earth of its green
There are no more summer days
for us at the house
on Peachblossom Creek
We all grew up, our parents grew old,
and our grandfathers passed away
It’s been years since that land was sold
with its great magnolia trees
that bloom every spring
if they’re still there
perhaps they bloom each year for another happy family
But I don’t dare
turn right off the Oxford Road,
the first right after Peachblossom Creek Bridge,
onto Old Country Club Road,
where the gates to the house are less than a mile in,
I don’t dare go back again
The sight of how the years have changed it
I probably won’t recognize it
The House, The HOME,
where we celebrated so many Christmases
and summer nights catching lightning bugs
those years when we were children
those times that can never happen again
as we scattered apart like leaves on the wind
No one
ever told me
that’s what
growing up
is.
***
©2010, KHC
September 23rd, 2010 Tags: culture family gidgetwidget growing up life memory poem poetry childhood goodbye home rip cpcii poppop poppy ralphwilliams oxford maryland chesapeake bay tred avon river
*
Like fading whispers, they all fell away
One by one, it seems, over the years
I never noticed it getting quiet
At least not until it grew silent
And so I looked up and saw
Every one
Had gone
*
I can’t call anyone back
And day after day I wonder
Why I never took the time to consider
How lonesome it can get
When there’s no one to talk to
And nothing to talk about
And you’re staring out the window
At a reflection of yourself
But you almost look like someone else
*
Yes, I’ve been wronged
Yes, I’ve a past I’d rather forget
But there were good times, I remember
And there were good people that I cared for
But they all faded to whispers
And they’re not there anymore
Long since
Gone
Far away.
*
My, how I miss them,
Miss them all,
Rocking, back and forth,
“I miss you, I miss you, I miss you,”
In an empty room.
***
©2010, KHC
July 20th, 2010 Tags: gidgetwidget poetry poem life loss memory I Miss You
From the balcony, I could look down onto the Boulevard De La Croisette, Palais de Festivals and out past the Promenade’s Merry-Go-Round to the Cannes Harbour, filled with luxury yachts.
Most imagine the glamour, and in my recounting of the experience, I will indulge that fantasy. Laugh, as I remember how I had no shoes to match my dress and with very little time, ran into Ferragamo on the Croisette, spending a fortune on my first pair of the classic designer shoes.
But when I experienced the Cannes Film Festival, I was still very young and without much guidance aside from my still-developing wit. While I knew how privileged I was to be there, seeing all I was seeing, I confess that it was not the happiest of times.
But at least I can look back and say, yes, when I was young and beautiful, I sat on a balcony and sipped champagne at Cannes.
May 16th, 2010 Tags: gidgetwidget life cannes cannes film festival memory celebrities
guess it’s only one small thing, maybe someday have meaning, looking back and i’ll just laugh, but at this very moment, the dread is
unrelenting.
March 14th, 2010 Tags: photography portrait gidgetwidget alone life lost memory time
We two, in our hats…captured in a moment…as we talked. In the same soundstage that Federico Fellini created masterpieces in.
March 14th, 2010 Tags: gidgetwidget image life photography memory
Slipping softly sweetly subtle whispers take their toll on me…
cuz
often I remembered some little bits
the parts of me…
when summer never settled and we lived like kings and queens
never struggled
never signaled
never wondered beyond our means.
©2010, KHC
March 14th, 2010 Tags: poetry life youth summer memory gidgetwidget time
