House of Cards

my mind is stacked
like a carefully built
house of cards
distant memories
things to remember
random facts
times tables
deep thoughts
passing fancies
all balanced
on top of each other
sometimes I fear
that just one
misplaced thought
might collapse the whole thing
old memories will fall off the edge
as I struggle to remember my shopping list
and you fill me
crowding out the useless stuff
spring cleaning my mind of rubbish
old painful memories fade
pointless information binned
and I carry on balancing
and find myself mid shower
with absolutely no knowledge
of whether I just washed my hair
because I was writing a poem in my head
and didn’t notice what my hands were doing

By Suzy Shipman

I like to take photos and write words ...


  1. yes, getting out because the poem is going down the drain, in a desperate need to write, then realize, I forgot to rinse out the conditioner…lol…more than a few times…hugs Blue.


  2. It’s a good metaphor for the fragility of memory – reminds me (slightly tangentially) of the pairs memory game with cards played as children… I like your ending best.


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