Today Ahbra is in charge of Poetics at dVerse. He wants us to write about returning – perhaps. I feel you have memories, good or bad but you can neither go back nor come back. Come join us for this interesting prompt and all the takes on “What would I be if I could come back” or going back to a time or place. I’m in a cynical mood today! http://dversepoets.com/2016/02/02/poetics-coming-back/ The poetic form is the Bussokuseki. –
public domain of old southern home
No Return
streets are smaller and
trees are fewer – someone else
lives in the homeplace –
all is faded into mists –
the past has passed no return –
look forward angel to now –
kanzen sakura 
Feb 02, 2016 @ 16:10:21
Yes, so very true. Reminds me of when I visit my hometown & drive past my growing up home. It is familiar, yet no longer familiar. Someone else lives there now; and I realize I cannot go ‘home’ again! A lot of what was HAS faded….but thankfully there is still a bright now!
Feb 02, 2016 @ 16:17:38
And….a better time to come. The last time I went “home” was about 10 years ago. I haven’t gone back since. Duke U is still the same and while it is a part of home, it isn’t home….
Feb 02, 2016 @ 16:10:58
Oh yes there is that shadow of the past. There is the irreversible thing of time.
Feb 02, 2016 @ 16:16:05
And the river of time only flows in one direction!
Feb 02, 2016 @ 16:48:28
Oh this is absolutely divine! 😀
Feb 02, 2016 @ 18:51:49
I like the skeleton of an old home as a photo to support this, very much. And I love the proximity of “past” and “passed.”
Feb 02, 2016 @ 18:54:49
I gave you a wink as I did past and passed….my homeplace is being beautifully taken care of but it may as well be a skeleton….you can’t go home again for sure.
Feb 02, 2016 @ 19:25:33
A ghost of other times. *sigh* ❤ ❤ ❤
Feb 03, 2016 @ 19:07:05
❤ ❤ ❤
Feb 04, 2016 @ 08:53:47
❤ ❤
Feb 02, 2016 @ 19:47:29
Becoming an angel isn’t so bad.
Feb 03, 2016 @ 19:05:06
I’m afraid I’ll always be that little vixen playing in the mud… 🙂
Feb 03, 2016 @ 20:53:20
Oh, I see where you’re coming from. I’ve always had a bit of that in me too. :~)
Feb 03, 2016 @ 20:59:43
😊
Feb 02, 2016 @ 19:57:31
Love this line best : the past has passed no return –
And yes the past quickly fades away ~
Feb 03, 2016 @ 19:04:03
Yes it does. Thank you.
Feb 02, 2016 @ 19:58:00
I really like that last line.
Feb 03, 2016 @ 19:03:32
I am glad you do. Thank you.
Feb 02, 2016 @ 20:46:12
Nice. I think you really capture it with “streets are smaller, trees are fewer”.. and the photo is perfect..
Feb 03, 2016 @ 19:03:10
Thank you! Thank you also for visiting dVerse, for writing, and for commenting as well!
Feb 02, 2016 @ 21:12:04
Some memories are left best to rest. We travelled to my home town about three years ago and I drove by the home I lived in as a little girl. So very sad to see it in a state of disrepair. I wish I’d left my memories intact. In the same vein, we went to see the church I went to — I’d remembered it as very large, with a cave “grotto” side altar that was mystical…..you guessed it. The church was very small, kneelers were split plastic, taped; and the grotto was fake stone.
Your poem hits home.
Feb 03, 2016 @ 18:59:19
Yes indeed. Some of the many gracious old homes of friends and neighbors split into apartments, decayed, boarded up….so very sad. The church I attended was turned into a casual dining restaurant….
Feb 03, 2016 @ 03:55:03
Reading this – makes me sad and not exactly what I thought in my prompt. I guess whatever happens, I will have reasons to return.
Feb 03, 2016 @ 06:51:01
As a Christian, I do not believe in reincarnation, especially in light of attaining eventual glory. I do not live in the same stats where I was born and my family is scattered. Here is my home now. I do not have an annual event I go to. I have memories of my home place but they are only memories. I returned to my hometown a few years but it was different. But I believe because of the love and grace of Jesus, when I die, I will go to live in heaven, not come back as some creature, did, come back, etc. That is the thing about prompts, unless you give very clear, strict parameters, the individual interprets them according to being an individual.
Feb 03, 2016 @ 07:13:04
I do not believe in reincarnation either – and it was not about what we believe spiritually. Sorry if I hurt your sentiments on this. I didn’t intend to.
Whenever I read Jibananda’s work, I find it slightly morbid – if you read my piece, even I have said the same thing – I don’t want to come back no matter how much I like to. There is nothing called eternity. We have a beating heart and that is all that matters.
Feb 03, 2016 @ 18:55:14
And to me, your last sentences are even sadder than my poem. I am glad I believe in eternity and heaven and have that to look forward to one day.
Feb 04, 2016 @ 03:49:19
May be – but I am a person of logic and reality, I don’t believe in something that I can’t see…
Feb 03, 2016 @ 04:05:48
Good choice, lol.
Feb 03, 2016 @ 18:57:25
Yeppers. One can’t stay mired in one place forever!
Feb 03, 2016 @ 07:08:26
This really does capture the idea of life moving on and constant changes. Maybe its the impressions of past homes that last. As for the future your poem expresses the uncertainty so well.
Feb 03, 2016 @ 18:55:38
Thank you
Feb 03, 2016 @ 08:36:19
I get the sense of true detachment in your poem. Letting go. The butterfly does not visit its cocoon after the metamorphosis.
Feb 03, 2016 @ 18:54:22
Very wise comment. Thank you.
Feb 03, 2016 @ 19:29:27
You’re welcome!
Feb 03, 2016 @ 11:34:14
Only in our memories is the past alive and vibrant. No going back is right
Feb 03, 2016 @ 18:53:58
Thank you!
Feb 03, 2016 @ 12:41:03
A beautiful poem with a wealth of truth.
Feb 03, 2016 @ 18:53:20
Thank you very much.
Feb 03, 2016 @ 14:41:27
Now is what we have. We can’t return. Lovely thought here, and so true. Enjoyed your poem.
Feb 03, 2016 @ 18:53:00
Thank you! I am glad you enjoyed.
Feb 04, 2016 @ 20:19:40
So very true. About ten years ago I took my mom on a pilgrimage to places she/we had lived. My beautiful white house on the hill–a sort of fairy tale, really–had been painted black and was in terrible shape. We just turned around an scrammed.
Feb 04, 2016 @ 20:29:19
The people who bought our home place had cut down the ancient magnolia and pulled up all the roses my grandmother had planted and replaced with those “fountain petunias”. The flagstone walk laid by hand by my great-grandfather planted with lemon thyme and moss so when you walked, you had that fragrance and replaced with ugly cement. But the house was well taken care of. The quince and box hedge, ancient, pulled up with an ugly white plastic privacy fence. I saw it all, wept, and never returned. My school had been torn down….businesses closed, new ones opened. Too many changes.
Feb 04, 2016 @ 20:38:28
That is so heartbreaking. No going back. I just hold on to my fantasy/memories, my castle on the hill. My grandfather, an engineer, had built the house after the depression.
Feb 04, 2016 @ 20:59:13
That is so sad. And I know it was well made! I just keep my memories intact and treasure the old photos. That box hedge and rootings from the original quince had been planted when the house was finished in 1890. The same for the walk. Yes it is their home but no respect for beautiful old things. Guess it was too much trouble to trim twice a year.
Feb 04, 2016 @ 21:12:13
:0( Lazy. Or maybe they are old!
Feb 04, 2016 @ 21:26:54
Naaaaa, ugly plastic toys in the back, like people have for young kids….yuppies…