April 29, 2004
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The past is another country,
One where we can only find
What we saw of it,
Or read about what others
Saw it to be.
The dead will never come back,
Not the people who loved us
Nor the thoughts we once had.
The past is another country,
One we can never visit again,
Never see what is gone
Never touch what will not return.
It is a country built of silence,
One we only visit in our dreams,
One that will die with us
Sunk in a sea of dust.
—
Lord Pineapple
Comments (30)
No two days are exactly alike. No two places. No two people. No two moments. But every unique timeplaceperson is built on what comes before.
i can live in the past but then i get left behinde so i keep moving along.
envy at the fact that i did not think of wording it the same way. lol but this is very well done. it has smooth rythem that we drift along too.
{-.o}/
Ah, my dear, so true…. that we only visit in our dreams. My loved ones fill my dreamtime in ways that are both ecstatic and sad. I guard against spending too much time “visiting” the past for it can become preferable to the present and here lies the danger to self. Were I not intended to do something, be something for awhile longer, I would not be here. To stay in the past is an insult to our Maker.
the past isn’t real, the past isn’t real. I need to say this every day.
i have absolutely no idea what a nightingale actually looks like. for some reason, it just came to mind. 45 second poem.
How true it is! Good poem…I love my dreams, even the bad ones have good reason to them. But I also believe dreams need not turn to dust upon my death. I can pen my dreams, my loves, and pass on my expressions to other generations. When will any of them eventually die? Who’s to say. Love your site. Peace, Liam.
by the way, i especially like the last line of your poem.
I really love the premise of this poem. the past is another country. wonderfully well done.
And yes. That sounds like something my daughter would do as well. She is exceptionally sensitive and loving, but not always to her siblings! LOL! Not yet anyway.
i think the past is something we shouldnt dwell on, but we should understand it so we can progress in our present, and enjoy the future…i am so happy i finally finished all my school shit…did you hav a lot of hw ‘back in the day’? u kno, when u were…uh…younger?
the past is a country I try not to visit very often….I prefere to look to the horizon to the countries of the future…
Past another county, hmm I like to go there, some thing were better then.
Why does that other country have to loom so large in the rearview mirror?
the past is but a junkyard
full of no longer needed things
that were once somebody’s future
and all the now it brings
See “As The Crow Flies”…
But the future is an undiscovered continent.
I hold my past closely, clearly, dearly near to my heart
I hold it tightly, but gently so I can remember and recall
All of it
As my past is what I fall back on for the peace and the pleasures of the childhood, of the child
I once knew
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I love your poem, it says a lot, much differently than mine but clearly from your inner self
I think it is all a circle.
hmmm only the conscious can recall making this such an indivisual act even with the same experience the recollection is quite varied;provoking me to dwell on immortality…..SUCH BRILLIANCE….Dorothea
I like this one…wonderfully written and so meaningful and true!
Yes, we can never visit that country. Even the ones who were there will recall the events according to their individual truths, so we better not dwell on it, just learn what we can and move on
Great poem, it is easier to think about such an intangible subject (time) when you talk about it as if it were a place. I really enjoyed it
gosh i hate the past. so i’m glad it’s a country i can’t visit hehe
Thank you for your most recent comments. Had I heard something like this in junior high school, things would be a lot different today. Alas, now is now, and we must do things with the time we have remaining.
You write a wide variety of poetry, covering topics and subjects and experiences that I have not yet encountered. It is always good reading your works.
The best teachers are the ones who challenge us, who make us complain that the teacher is too hard, or “hates us.” It would have been fascinating to see you in the college environment as a professor in the Fine Arts department. And I laugh at this because I just imagined the Three Headed Sarahs behind the lecturn, teaching…
Such a warm, happy thought that is.
Jim
Awesome Terry! I often think of the past, the good, band and the ugly. It can never be changed or touched again, it is like it is locked behind thick glass walls, only to be recalled in a memory. Beautiful summary!
You know, why I haven’t asked you before, I don’t know. I subscribe to someone you should subscribe to if you don’t already and don’t think you do. Most photography but she has some really fine photos you would enjoy on her blog always and especially now. I want you to check it out, click here. A bit of nostalgia and a little bit of a familiar past never hurt anyone. I hope you enjoy where I’m sending you.
This one made me think about the meaning of everyline individually but also as a meaningful part of the entire message… this poem also made me think of how some people dwell on a past that is somewhere else that no one can touch or change although its haunting us… (i’ll leave this page and i’ll be haunted by this poem, but in a good way) have a shwayday…
It sure felt real when I was living it…that is when it was the present and when I wouldn’t let it go.
Lord Pineapple, your poetry is marvelous. Simple yet with power..
Sobering thoughts well written.
Congratulations about this poem about the past . How to say better . You express what I often feel .But I hope in a future when the past will be alive . Death where is your victory ? someone said .
In friendship Michel
sad thought…