The Bastard Sons

The Bastard Sons

Poem by Juan Carlos Diaz


What are memories but the bastard sons

Of time and reverie, with emotional minds

And tongues keeping us prisoner in a

Cell of dreams won and birthed and

Dreams aborted and lost.

This is where the scars

Of philosophers are

Fashioned into women

And men with silver

Tongues that seem

To ask a  few simple


Can you see your memories?

In the reflection of and

Sound of a philosopher’s silver




Painting by Edgar Degas

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