See-Saw / Harlem

            Reading the poem “See-Saw” by Willie Perdomo I couldn’t help by wonder about Pros and Cons lists we all make when dealing with fallouts from damaged relationships with either lovers or friends. Weighing in the good and the bad leads us to either want to remember or forget.

            “Spent a whole day

            and night

            playing on my see-saw

            see if I could forget

            saw that it was over

            before it started”

            Perdomo describes dealing with a disappointment over wanting to pursue someone who wasn’t interested to begin with. The poet wants to forget. But it’s not so easy. When you try to forget, you end up remembering longer what you are trying to forget instead. And forgetting can also lead you to make the same mistakes again, and end up where you started.

            “I go up in smoke

            and come down

            in a nod

            I go up in smoke

            and come down

            in a nod”

            Like a chorus of a song, the above stanza appears twice in the poem, with Perdomo using a see-saw as a metaphor to explain the way he is thinking about and dealing with his dilemma. Going up in smoke alludes to something wasted, but coming down with a nod suggests something worth conserving.

            “Then I play with my old journals

            so I can hear myself

            screaming for help

            promising to stop

            as soon as I finish

            the last one

            but beware my foolish heart

            wants to play forget again”

            I, too, sometimes go through my old diaries looking to see how I handled past fallouts. And that makes me remember what I may have forgotten. Once I couldn’t even recognize my own handwriting or the words I wrote, looking at my past self from a perspective of a current self. The last time I spent a short while with someone I found special, it ended before it started. I remember the day when I knew it ended, although I try hard to forget. Having deleted all texts and pictures, I forgot to a degree. But then I hear a certain song, and I remember. We never fully forget. Yet the memory can be altered, and in time we can train our minds to remember things differently. Memory is a funny thing.

            Reading the poem “Harlem” by Langton Hughes (1902-1967) I couldn’t help but wonder if what happens to a postponed dream is like a see-saw. If we lock away our desires, can we forget them, or do we always end up remembering? Is it safer to settle for less, and not strive for more? Or should we take risks and fight for what we dream?

            “What happens to a dream deferred?          

            Does it dry up

            Like a raisin in the sun?

            Or fester like a sore –

            And then run?

            Does it stink like rotten meat?

            Or crust and sugar over –

            Like a syrupy sweet?”

            I would rather be disappointed than regret not pursuing something or someone. In the past I played it safe when I felt scared to push for more, and I regret it. Sometimes I feel the weight of my regrets – it sags just like Hughes describes – but it makes me remember what I learned about dreams.

            “Maybe it just sags

            like a heavy load.

           

            Or does it explode?”

            Let’s not defer our dreams, let’s reach out for them instead. Disappointment is wiser than regret.