
[ f/10, 1/320, 38mm, ISO 800 ]
for you
the market place is selling memories
on tables lined with faded lace
and on each table the remnants lay
of dreams you might have chased
oh you relics that are cast aside
your purpose long fulfilled
displayed among the tables there
you're hoping for new love to build
yet most will pass so unaware
of your treasures lying dormant
moving by with too short stares
adding to your cruel torment
as you strain to demonstrate
you've lots to give to someone new
in a world you could create
in a life you could renew
like lovers that you've had before
in your youth that's never more
with its never ending serenade
you strain to halt the memories fade
and while the song is getting old
there are stories to still unfold
and though the melody
is lost to all
you still hear the music
and you would gladly
heed its call
[ Click on "Comments" below to view/add comments to this post. Tell me what you see in the photo. Or what struck you in my writing.]
I try to update this blog about once a week. You can check the 'Blog Archive' links on the right side to see previous photos and posts. You are always welcome to go back through the archives to view and comment on previous postings.






Lets begin with the photo... amazing! I looked at it long and hard, trying to determine why it touched me so. The blended art and reality are striking. The similarities between painted and living tableaux are surprising. And then the poem... how powerful the pull of the past...
ReplyDeleteI enjoyed this very much. I spend a lot of time browsing such places and bring far too many things home. I wondered the other day about all the memories that these items must hold.
ReplyDeleteLovely picture too! :-)
Wonderful photo. For me, the poem describes the life of an elderly person... sometimes forgotten and passed by as though they have nothing left to offer.
ReplyDelete"you still hear the music." That made me well up.
ReplyDeleteAmazing write and the image fits.
"the remnants lay of dreams you might have chased"
ReplyDeleteNice poem of memories of youth and lost loves.
I browse such areas frequently, and i can now hear them whispering your words to me as i pass them by. The poem really makes you stop to think about how precious other people's treasures are and what magical, happy or perhaps sad stories lay beneath. Thank you for your masterful insight entwined with your beautiful photo.
ReplyDeleteI love both the image and the poem - a perfect fit. Thank you
ReplyDeleteWonderful both photgraph and prose, go hand in hand, relics on the table, relics and remnants of hearts, lovely.
ReplyDeletethis is beyond beautiful! this was near perfection! wonderful piece!
ReplyDeleteYou took me to a journey long forgotten... with your first lines...
ReplyDelete'the market place is selling memories
on tables lined with faded lace'
... and then it was a delight to read it all... Loved your picture...so perfect...
ॐ नमः शिवाय
Om Namah Shivaya
http://shadowdancingwithmind.blogspot.com/2011/07/whispers-memories-to-live-by.html
Love this picture! The painted figures and the real ones fit together wonderfully.
ReplyDeleteLove the photo and the poem.
ReplyDeleteLiked this lines in particular:
"and while the song is getting old
there are stories to still unfold"
Good insight -- that in old memories, there are still discoveries to be made in them.
Brilliant photo loved it and the words really bring the scene to life ...sometimes letting go of our treasured past is painful to us but meaningless to anyone else think you portrayed this beautifully ...thank you
ReplyDeletegreat photo, loved the mural. and the narrative was wonderful as well.
ReplyDeleteLove the photo, and the mural. I suppose many old people feel as well what these knickknacks feel, that there is so much love and music still inside them that no one any longer cares to share.
ReplyDeleteBoth were good. I like the way you express the feelings attached to the items on the table.
ReplyDeleteWhat an amazing photo! I loved how the mural blend in with the surrounding, a true depiction of the opening lines of your poem :)
ReplyDeletebeautiful all
ReplyDeletelove it!!!!
ReplyDeleteVery lovely poem. Wonderful story, told well.
ReplyDeletePoem really resonates. The photo too is beautiful.
ReplyDeletetrue, stories keep unfolding despite the fact that the music is over.
ReplyDeleteThanks for sharing.
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ReplyDeleteI could feel the longing of those relics - longing for someone who would own them and cherish them, and create new stories with them. Old things really carry so much with them: so much charm, history, and value that can't be measured merely through monetary terms. And when relics possess these, they cease to become merely items that people collect; they become pieces that speak of one's life.
ReplyDeleteI agree with Philip that line struck me as well, fantastic poem!
ReplyDeleteYou gave a heart to inanimate objects; made us care about them. That takes a Poet (capital P).
ReplyDeleteI love markets and was a stallholder at local Sunday markets for many years. Know what you mean about selling memories. Also love this photo.
ReplyDelete