Impossible Friendships
by Adam Zagajewski
For example, with someone who no longer is,
who exists only in yellowed letters.
Or long walks beside a stream,
whose depths hold hidden
porcelain cups—and the talks about philosophy
with a timid student or the postman.
A passerby with proud eyes
whom you'll never know.Here's the rest of the poem.
And here's mine:
Dream
I dreamed about you last night,
but I can’t remember it.
There was something about looking for you,
and not being able to find you,
and being abandoned and lost and forgotten.
The usual.
And when I awoke,
Even the dream was gone.
Ruth, from thereisnosuchthingasagodforsakentown.blogspot.com
Irene has the roundup today.
11 comments:
The ending of "Impossible Friendships"! For some reason, I didn't see it coming.
Wowsa! My mind is spinning with the possibilities of impossible friendships--love that ending of friending yourself. And your poem is so haunting. How many times have I woken with just such a feeling from a dream?
The contradicitons written, the lives lived, all together are part of what happens, aren't they. Sometimes I wonder if remembering a dream or NOT remembering is best. You've offered words to think on, Ruth!
Two such interesting poems. Love the ending of the linked poem, and yours, which is particularly powerful, I think, because I at least, have experienced just that
YOu know, I'm reading The Impossible Magic of Being right now....and it's these two poems in the story of a young boy and his family and his neighbor. It's like these poems belong in this book. There are odd and vital connections all around us that we take for granted. I'm so glad I stopped by today.
Such thoughts to ponder---impossible friendships, dreams, lost connections. Poignant and moving. Thank you.
What a pair. Things that are there, but not there. I'm curious, did the one by Adam Z. inspire yours?
No, Mary Lee, I paired them later.
Love both poems, Ruth. Never considered impossible friendships before and that's so intriguing to me. The last line was a zinger for sure.
I've had dreams similar to yours, too. Recently it's been about wandering in strange towns or places and trying to find a way back home, either by foot, car, or bus.
Last night--I don't know why now--I turned the light back on and used my phone to look up "how many people do I know?" Like, in the world. The first link suggested that based on a calculation involving the number of Michaels I know compared with the number of Michaels in the general population, the answer is 600, but likely only 25 of those are people I would say I trust.
I know or have know many many many more than 600, having been a teacher for 30 years, and they have names like Huberto that don't show up much in the census, but yet there are impossible friendships, some of them real and then lost, abandoned. Adam's poem gets all helpfully specific the way a poem should, but your poem tells it the way dreams really are.
A poem I just rewrote speaks to impossible possibilities, how serendipitous to find you offered this poem on "Impossible Friendships." I like the matter-or-fact straight forward approach in your poem "Dream." This contradicts entirely what a dream is for it's very often not straight forward, mixed up and we often don't remember it, perhaps that's why I liked your approach, thanks ruth.
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