People Forget
“Being unable to cure death, misery and ignorance,
men have decided, in order to be happy, not to think
about such things.” —Blaise Pascal, Pensées
People forget: that empires end,
That after singing, silence starts;
That after every party’s joy
We part, and blight destroys our heart.
People forget: their loved ones go,
That dirt retains its own, that tears
Affect not one tint of sky-blue;
That clouds more real than us appear.
People forget: that just below
Surfaces hyenas, buzzards, beasts
Prevail; and round us, all about
Becoming, we’re their final feast.
People forget: the clock ticks on,
As every gift incurs a cost;
As every path, however long,
Leads through a country where we’re lost.
People forget: and most of all
Forget forgetting. Thus, we stand
Before an ever-rising tide,
Like children building walls of sand.
James Sale has had over 50 books published, most recently, “Mapping Motivation for Top Performing Teams” (Routledge, 2021). He has been nominated by The Hong Kong Review for the 2022 Pushcart Prize for poetry, has won first prize in The Society of Classical Poets 2017 annual competition, and performed in New York in 2019. He is a regular contributor to The Epoch Times. His most recent poetry collection is DoorWay. For more information about the author, and about his Dante project, visit https://englishcantos.home.blog. To subscribe to his brief, free and monthly poetry newsletter, contact him at [email protected].
James, this is one of those “unforgettable” poems on forgetfulness. I recently wrote a love sonnet on the subject, “I forgot to remember to forget.” Forgetting is also matched with ignorance of history. In America, we have “forgotten” to teach history, government, and what we used to call civics. This is needed at all levels of education. Then there are the intellects who choose to discard history and hence subject us to the lessons of history time and time again. There is also a corresponding juxtaposition of ignorance and ignoring. The two are closely related. Your poem points out all the forms of forgetting that incorporates these elements and redounds to our inability to make cultural adjustments based on clear historical lessons thus ensuring future difficulties.
Thanks Roy, appreciate your comments. Let’s not forget – we who strive as poets – that the mother of poetry is Mnemosyne, the Titan/goddess of memory with whom Zeus/Apollo coupled. Without her help, we cannot do it!
There’s an excellent Renaissance emblem (a symbolical device) that also attempted to wake people up from forgetfulness of their end. It was a woodcut of a grinning skull, with the motto “Quod sum, tu quoque eris” (What I am, you also will be.)
This is one of my favorite poetic styles: meditative, plaintive, tragic yet stoic. You master the tone, mourning the inherent decay, yet accepting it as truth, reminding us that we must accept it too. In that respect it is perfectly representative of our age.
Cheers Adam – glad you like this so much; and yes, we have forgotten so much. Ancient wisdom for one thing. Check out my new article in The Epoch Times for more on this: https://www.theepochtimes.com/bright/classical-wisdom-when-truth-becomes-a-saying-6070676
The poem on forgetting does not apply to Christians. We are constantly reminded of the plight of mankind but we eagerly wait for our final, eternal destination, joining our Redeemer Jesus Christ.
As you get the reader thinking about forgetting, we remember these things and see how profound they are. It expands so well on Pascal’s epigraph. “After singing, silence starts.”; “we’re their final feast”; “clocks tick on.” are all great observations that we seldom think about. The “walls of sand” image in the final verse is a perfect ending.
Thanks for this Cynthia – I know you are a real Christian, as I am myself, so I appreciate somebody appreciating the poem and not giving me a lecture on the merits of Jesus Christ. Such people should read my DoorWay for my definitive view on the eternal destination which should preoccupy all right thinking people!
Sad. I read this line a few times:
People forget: their loved ones go,
That dirt retains its own, that tears
Affect not one tint of sky-blue;
Like nature is utterly indifferent. And life goes on.
We forget until we are forced to remember.
Ah! My dear friend, the great Pietrack: so sad to make you sad! Still, I know you know that these reminders of the brevity of human life are a wake-up call to dig deeper into the meaning of ‘things’!
Forgetfulness is God’s gift to us
For without which we would be forlon
To Remembe is not to be sort
Otherwise in peace we would not be gone
James, this is so poignant and touching, I agree with Adam that it is “tragic yet stoic.” Well done!
Thanks Theresa – what more can we want than to be poignant and touching? Poetry is to get to – not the mind of it – but the heart of it. Really glad you liked it.
This resonates deeply with me. Reminds me of all the suffering &we must endure & try to forget in order to survive ; and reminds me of this poem I wrote on survival :
SURVIVING ON GROUNDWATER WELLS
by Eugenio Cappuccio.
Holly the Homeless Hedgehog our kids called her
that hot day she trundled out with her brood
from the arid thirsty wood
to wade into the earthenware plate of water
we’d leave on our grass since eternal summer
for birds, lizards, bees, wasps under the shadow
of a fresh, copious overhanging olive tree.
It was heaven to see
her and her hoglets soak in the wet glow,
slaking, dousing away their desert woe.
Lola, our Labrador, was glad to cover
their risky march, she being a mother too ;
by keen instinct she knew
Holly’d risked snakes, cats, weasels to come over
and the heartless gardener’s unswerving mower.
She’d thought best go quick than as a slow goner
on the hottest summer ever in history
now that mad human industry
was baking the planet’s flora and fauna
and Holly’s cool burrow into a sauna.
And it would have eased a little our strain
in a whole year to feel a drop of rain.
That autocorrect messed up my text, which should read :
This resonates deeply with me. Reminds me of all the suffering THAT we must endure & try to forget in order to survive ; & reminds me of this poem I wrote on survival :
A poignant piece, James. In areas prone to tsunamis we rebuild around ruined coastlines, forget the previous tsunami and don’t take precautions for the next one.
Meanwhile having said we won’t forget the consequences of ethnic cleansing, we watch it unfold time after time and just wring our hands.
Your poem gives us pause on many levels.
Yes, thanks Paul – we do forget so many things of massive consequence, and perhaps in the UK (not sure about the USA) the most uselessly overused expression – mostly from public service personnel – is “Lessons will be Learnt”: a certain indicator that nothing has been learnt at all; for if something had been learnt what would be said is: ‘As a result of this cock-up/tragedy/accident/disaster x, y and z will happen and be implemented almost immediately’ (where x, y, and z are specific actions, not platitudes).
The “memento” lyric is usually a sad one, even when it doesn’t go so far as “memento mori.” Here, James, you transmute it into a general lament on NOT remembering. Perhaps more memorable? Anyway, it reminds me of specific small actions to perform rather than saying “lessons will be learnt”!
Let’s hope it is more memorable Margaret and that people on this site ‘remember’ to take one small and specific action: to read it! Thanks.
Well put, James. As one our national Tomb of the Unknown Soldier puts it, “Lest we forget.” But your verse does beg the question: If we DID remember, would the walls we build be more lasting and substantial than those of sand which our forgetting builds on the beach with the rising tide? Or, sooner or later, are we doomed to the whelming flood regardless?
Ah! The Flood, James, the Flood! Did you know that Ashurbanipal, ruled approximately 668–631 BC, the last great king of the Neo-Assyrian Empire, claimed that he could read difficult Sumerian and Akkadian texts and had examined stone inscriptions believed to date from before the Flood – and could read them!!! What we have forgotten, what lost, if only we could remember, James, if only …