Twist the knobs
Sloppy scrawls
Shake it up
And, start again
Etch-A-Sketch
A child's first palimpsest

Twist the knobs
Sloppy scrawls
Shake it up
And, start again
Etch-A-Sketch
A child's first palimpsest
you
remember
when you were
a baby
you had to learn
everything
how to hold
a knife
and fork
but weren't you
really
a #palimpsest
you know
I've read
of children
having
memories
of previous lives
strange
but true
are we just
like hard drives
over written
and over written
it's there
#vss365
That undercurrent of sadness
as cliffs fall away into the sea,
when rivers dry up,
languages die,
people find it hard to remember the good times.
When songs fall short
and animals cease,
generations are lost,
a world collapses to the floor.
Drowned-Out
August scorched
the reservoir dry.
In baked clay,
a palimpsest of tracks.
Cart wheels,
Hoofprints,
twin grooves
of a vanished road.
At the bottom,
a garden gate
leaning in its sockets,
opening to nowhere.
Water covered
everything including
the way out.
Scribbling furiously
On an old piece
Of recovered paper
All the words
Needing to be relased
Wrong words
Erased haphazardly
Mixed with red rubber
Brushed to the floor
The whole affair
Resembling a #palimpsest
In the process of becoming
The errant poem emerging
Perplexed as to its origin
As kids, we’d recorded ourselves talking over Dad’s old music tape. Now & then there’s a click & a blast of Led Zeppelin before our voices cut back in.
Now I record it on my iPhone, adding our background noise to the #palimpsest.
Re-playing it, faint screams echo from the future... #vss365
#vss365 The monk found a #palimpsest beneath the monastery’s oldest Bible. He scraped away the holy text and read the words hidden underneath. They described his birth. His childhood. His taking of vows. Then his hand stopped. The next line read:
He has found us
Tetsuo caressed Anya's skin, a #palimpsest of experiences and memories of her past lives.
The past's #palimpsest
An archaic Etch-O-Sketch
History revised
#vss365
#palimpsest
#poem
#waterford
Another manuscript is pressed
upon the scroll
that speaks my soul;
I am a living palimpsest.
We refined our palate with poetry and prose
Now...
#palimpsest
of simmering passion lingers
Masquerading as trinket
of etches and graffiti...
His jaw dropped at the results. "Look at this, there are traces of the original ink on the scroll."
"A #palimpsest? You mean what's on it now isn't the original text?"
"No, someone deliberately erased it and wrote over it."
"Can we reconstruct what was on it before?"
"Maybe."
In August they chanced to meet in a hotel café in Aleppo. She was heading home from an archaeological dig in the east. He was bound for an expedition south.
The night was torrid, but his heart was a cuneiform tablet, and hers a #palimpsest with each name scraped clean.
"The Ten Commandments are gone."
"What do you mean? Did you break the tablets again, Moses?"
"No, I accidentally rewrote it on palimpsests."
He sat in the corner alone
His face was a #palimpsest
withered and worn
Behind the forced smile a scorn
culture torn, spat upon
Submit to an overlord
that'll never be gone
Sparse remnants of a god of his own
No future, no home
Boxed in a corner alone
#vss365 #poetry
book of life
a palimpsest: each day
an empty page
#vss365 #Palimpsest
#Senryu micropoetry #micropoem
magically
there you were
instantly
recognizable
the faintest traces
of your DNA sustain
written and rewritten
and rewritten again
over and over on ancient vellum
our sacred #palimpsest
won’t rest
after even a thousand years’ time
the essence
the substance
of our story will rhyme
Regentrifying the old neighborhood made of it a spoliated #palimpsest.
They stopped painting over graffiti pentimento & just bulldozed whole walls.
Repaved sidewalks covered familiar scarred vestiges of dead tree roots but the gravest disappearance, people, who couldn't afford to live there.
#vss365