What happens to a place not forgotten?
That calls to the future.
The fragments of ideas and living meet
In night air
A place that launched a century
With tendrils to every next place,
Every breath awakened
What happens to a place not forgotten?
But also not remembered
Scholarly recitals, happenings
What duty do we owe?
The structures have moved on
To new life and new folly.
In time a shrine moves on.
When the worshipers leave.
Before the scholars arrive.
Where the past makes plans with the future
All who remember, encircle it
Sometimes a place takes on a weight of its own.
A process of restructuring our definitions
Resurrecting our memories, frozen, elaborate
The privilege of a memorial is short-lived.
It must be worked to have meaning.
The interiority of geography
Land not forgotten on maps
Remember
Is it like Carthage?
No, it wasn’t destroyed by empire.
Is it then a Pripyat?
No, it wasn’t taken by industry and ego
Then it is like Hegra, untouched for millennia?
No, it has never slept, cold and vacant,
Where the ghosts of ideas always linger.
Like Babylon then
Yes, perhaps like Babylon,
Ruins, scholars, and myth.
With the shadow of hanging gardens
Where I, like Trajan, pass through its gates
And dance with the echoes.
What happens to a place not forgotten?
That calls to the future.
The fragments of ideas and living meet
In night air
A place that launched a century
With tendrils to every next place,
Every breath awakened
What happens to a place not forgotten?
But also not remembered
Scholarly recitals, happenings
What duty do we owe?
The structures have moved on
To new life and new folly.
In time a shrine moves on.
When the worshipers leave.
Before the scholars arrive.
Where the past makes plans with the future
All who remember, encircle it
Sometimes a place takes on a weight of its own.
A process of restructuring our definitions
Resurrecting our memories, frozen, elaborate
The privilege of a memorial is short-lived.
It must be worked to have meaning.
The interiority of geography
Land not forgotten on maps
Remember
Is it like Carthage?
No, it wasn’t destroyed by empire.
Is it then a Pripyat?
No, it wasn’t taken by industry and ego
Then it is like Hegra, untouched for millennia?
No, it has never slept, cold and vacant,
Where the ghosts of ideas always linger.
Like Babylon then
Yes, perhaps like Babylon,
Ruins, scholars, and myth.
With the shadow of hanging gardens
Where I, like Trajan, pass through its gates
And dance with the echoes.
With degrees in Fine Art, Education, and Literature, Anne Dickens was attracted to the history of Black Mountain College immediately. After years of attending events hosted by the museum, she began presenting workshops at the ReViewing Conference in 2022.
Cite this article
Dickens, Anne. “Triptych Poem.” Journal of Black Mountain College Studies 15 (2024). https://www.blackmountaincollege.org/journal/volume-15/dickens.