on perception and memory…

I met an old and dear friend for dinner this week, someone who is – outside of family – my longest-known-and-still-in-contact-with person. We’ve known each other 40 years, but have lived quite distinct lives for the last 35 – catching up sometimes rarely, but in that glorious “it’s as though the intervening time hasn’t happened” way.

And yet it has. Sitting, post-prandial, by the log fire in a wonderful rural inn, we spoke about various Stuff that’s happened over recent years, and there was a sudden lull. A joint pondering. He said, “man, but there’s been so much…”

So much Life, is what he meant. Between ‘us then’ and ‘us now’, we have each lived full grown-up lives and despite the natural familiarity are, in fact, largely strangers.

Which got me thinking – good, positive pondering, like a visit from the Muse – about this friendship, and others, spanning years and yet to all intents fixed on a small space of actuality: a tiny fraction of Time Known, where there was a tight connection, with the intervening years enhanced by that strong sense of recognition – a tie, a bond, a lasting connection – which is actually a memory, a perception, and no longer a reality.

My dinner companion was a hugely important part of my life 35 years ago, and the essence of that remains. I’ve spotted him, occasionally, in other men, in other decades. The glimpse always draws me. It’s that memory of something… perhaps it’s unfinished business from a previous life. Perhaps it’s a quest on behalf of an alternative self in a parallel world. Perhaps it’s just a hunger.

Ah, but it was a gentle and welcome Muse. It resulted in a poem:

the idea of you


01:17 a.m.


So You got hacked
and now my phone is dead
from following an
email link
which came late
when i was weary
and trusting
and i
forgot to remember
You’re a virus
leaving me unable to communicate
with those who
don’t follow
late night links sent
from idiots whose
idea of fun
is tying up time
in online bondage
time that could have
been spent
with me...
You’re a digital virus
rendering me mute
You should have
called instead.

 sandie zand, 01:17 3rd Feb 2018

I wonder if romance is dead

kiss        I wonder if romance is dead
        Or if it’s merely sleeping
        If somewhere in the
        Depths of time
        It slumbers
        For a
        To shake the torpor
        Dust the heart
        Type the script
        Prepare to start
        Adopt a stance
        A smile
        A glance
        A gentle kiss
        I miss
        I miss
        These things now seem so fleeting.
         I wonder if romance is dead
        Or if it’s merely sleeping?
                                                         ~ Sandie Zand, Oct 2012


this love

this strandochreswirl
this dimension existing
within and without
wrapping around
the then and now
the never and forever
(in curls of warm hue
a vagueness of blue)
is a free-spirit

this strand
this dimension existing
within and without
cannot be snapped
contained or constrained
it cannot be
embraced or erased
it cannot be

it is beautiful
this strand
this free-spirited dimension
which curls and wraps
and keeps me warm

it is beautiful
this love I have for you

~ Sandie Zand, June 2011