Submitted by Michael A. Griffith
I am beginning to forget more than I care to remember.
Turn out the light and I may forget what is in the room.
I remember Batman and Robin wearing their underwear
on the outside and The Joker had a mustache.
Did I remember to change my underwear today?
I am wondering if I knew you or if I know you.
No, you: you there.
Faces, not names, come to mind.
And smells and sounds wash off decades of silt,
and some details come to the surface like dead fish.
I am ending. I go on ending. I go on worrying when
I can’t remember my way home.
Did you remember to call me like you said you would,
or am I remembering the last time you said you’d call me
and come take me home?
About the Poet
Michael A. Griffith lives in Hillsborough, NJ and teaches at Raritan Valley
Community College. He began writing poetry to help his mind and spirit stay
healthy as he recovered from a life-changing injury and its resulting disability.
His poems, flash fiction, essays, and articles have appeared in many print and
online publications and anthologies. His chapbook Bloodline will be released in
fall 2018 by The Blue Nib. You can find more of his work here.
Painting: Man in a Bowler Hat – Rene Magritte
Vita Brevis Press. 
Profound and dark yet beautifull. I really enjoyed this .
Thank you for your comment, Tanya.
Wonderful.
Thank you, qbit.
Not unfamiliar musings. Well composed.
~~~~~ ~ ~~~~~
THE LIBRARIAN
I place a call upstairs
To the library and archives
Where the old retainer’s stationed
Twenty-four seven (long hours, I admit
But they’re pretty simple tasks)
I’d like to access some word
Some book, some film, some name
Some person’s face or history
“Please,” I say, ever so politely
I always say “Please”
And “Thank you very much” as well
Hoping of course (as the brightest
Among you will have guessed)
That this carrot approach will
In time improve his performance
The stick approach is
In my humble opinion
Morally repugnant
(And in practice
Counterproductive anyway)
The doddering voice
Remains silent
While in the silence
In the distance
I can discern
Those doddery footsteps
Receding among the stacks
Will he return, I wonder
Sometimes he’s gone for hours
For days even
Perhaps it’s time for superannuation
But he was always so loyal
And reliable in a crisis
Besides if I were to retire him
I’d get to wondering who’d be next
Ben Naga,
Superannuation is not that bad, but a person needs to be ready and wants it. In some cases, of course, they need the push. The mind what it will do and not do for us.
I enjoyed your poem, good imagery with wise feelings and words.
So glad you enjoyed it. Mainly a metaphoric why exploration of my own ageing process – and perhaps a reader’s – and a reflection on Michael’s piece. 🙂
Ageing is on the move for me too. This process is challenging.
Yes. 🙂
https://bennaga.wordpress.com/2012/02/08/when-i-am-old/
(“why exploration” should have been “wry exploration” 😳 )
🙂thank you.
A trouble shared is a trouble halved. 🙂
Makes a whole lot of sense. Glad you shared.
Me too. 🙂
Thank you, Ben, and nice work on your piece, as well.
Thank you kindly, Michael.
Reblogged this on Ben Naga and commented:
What goes up must come down
Embracing seems most graceful.
Besides what goes down must come up.
Outstanding! Loved your ever changing thoughts! Well done Michael, and welcome to the Vita Brevis family!
Hi there, Walt, and thank you!
Michael A. Griffith
What a challenge it is when the mind has an erasure more so on some days. Healing our brain, mind, memory is arduous and frightening too when the erasure has been far too active. I can’t imagine what this would be like except for the odd senior moment. My husband has dementia and I can see it all from the outside, but inside, within I cannot.
Your poem is marvellous, expressed beautifully.
Thanks, and your challenges will grow daily. Be strong, yet calm, when you can.
Poetry is meant to touch emotions, sometimes gently and sometimes with a strong grip. The later is spoken here and it is communicated so well. Love this piece. Brian’s taste in the art that accompanies the poetry in Vita Brevis is uncompromising and very refreshing.
Thank you, and I agree about Brian ad his astounding sense of style.