Thursday, December 1, 2011

Jordaan

Jordaan

I found myself  on a  bridge over  the Prinsengracht canal

in the disconnected calm  of three joints  from a coffee bar
and the cool predawn air. The click of Rembrandt’s footsteps
still echo down the cobbles at this hour--  Once, long ago,
I dreamt of the scene,  this moment;  fog  tickling  across
the warm canal water. I thought back to the person I was
when that dream was formed and I realized that I missed him.
He was young and idealistic, so unafraid, with a swagger
that  could  only  come  from  hubris  and  ignorance.

The damp morning air  sat on the shoulders  of my  jacket

and I smiled as I watched  a young  Dutch couple  fend  off
the chilly dark, oblivious to the painter and me as we took it all in.
The distance between that boy and the man that I would become
seems so much greater than the twenty five years it took to travel.
That  boy’s  dreams  have  turned  into  my  sad  reminiscence,
a longing for that time before disbelief and defeat; the un-jaded
days
of wonder lost along the way. I wanted to see Amsterdam
before I died; I realize now that it’s too late.

SMG

19 comments:

TALON said...

That last line just stabs the heart.

"The damp morning air sat on the shoulders of my jacket and I smiled and watched a young Dutch couple fend off the chilly dark, oblivious to the painter and me as we took it all in." -- I loved those that line. Powerful image setting the stage.

I'm so glad I got to walk with you and Rembrandt.

TALON said...

I meant I loved "that line" - not sure how the "those" slipped in except my fingers sometimes type faster than my brain.

Steven Marty Grant said...

Happens to me all the time, I type about half as fast as I think and completely skip words. gotta love the edit button!

moondustwriter said...

it's the kind of piece you want to stand back and watch as it comes to life. If only ...

Wonderful to have you link your poem to One Shot Wednesday

Beams from the moon

Claudia said...

your writing is amazing (read some of your other poems as well today)
and i love this one about the dreams of a boy - seen through the eyes of a grown up - and we just die to some of our hopes and memories..which is bad and good in some way
i wanna see amsterdam as well - and i'm not that far away as you are..

Brian Miller said...

oh man..you rip my heart out there at the end...i dont want it to ever be too late...you set this scene very well for only so few words...nice write. and glad you linked up with oneshot!

Glynn said...

Two years ago, a friend and I walked through the Jordaan so he could show me where his house had been. It was then exactly what reading this poem is now. I loved the walk, and I loved the poem.

dustus said...

That last line is amazing. I'd like to call attention to another great line: "He was young and idealistic, so unafraid, with a swagger that could only come from hubris and ignorance."
thanks

Jessie said...

such powerful images, so many beautiful lines. i can relate with every word you wrote. your words inserted me, the reader, into the shoes of the painter and the writers (yours.)

exceptionally well written.

warm smiles,

Bill Cook said...

Nice use of details woven into reflection. Very effective writing. - Bill

Mory said...

growing up can really be painful. when we look back into our pass we realize that we are no longer who we used to be.great writing sir.

Marshy said...

wow..this was so well said and written so beautifully..the last time i visited amsterdam was way back in '83..i just hope it doesn't become as poignant as your last line...thanks for sharing with One Shot..cheers Pete

signed...bkm said...

Very nice read - you can feel the distance between the boy and the man, from the dream and reality...our expections of ourselves and the world have a world of their own that only exisits within our mind....nice read..bkm

April said...

Incredibly powerful writing, and loved the image! I also agree with TALON. The last paragraph was incredible! Excellent work! :) April

Timoteo said...

A beautiful piece...my experience of visiting Paris later in life was eerily similar...

AngelaEJKoh said...

I think everyone already said it :) more please!

PattiKen said...

I really like this. The last line is so powerful, and sad. I appreciate that you used a prose poem as your form. We see it so seldom, and I love the storytelling quality it has.

Teresa said...

Truly a very powerful piece. I must agree with everyone else about that last line.

Nimue said...

i liked this ! could almost feel myself standing there with you !!