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The damp earth moulded you,
two souls side by side like produce
in an aisle,
roasting Easter lamb above our heads.
There they are, she says.
It is when the coffin settles, the sculpted wood
evaporates,
the mud dries on our boots,
the alarm clock rings,
then life grabs you.
Shakes you.
Nothing stands still but the tulips
on my table. Days and hours
mingle like strangers at a party,
a place you get lost in. Moments
when nothing is relevant anymore.
It hits you again, slaps you, whispers in your ear:
you’ll never laugh again the same way as you
did with him
the joke seems stale now. Dry on your lips.
heavy on your heart. But you say it
you continue to say it. Believe in it.
No crowd roaring as the list
of the dead keeps growing
like our needs.
Still how your beauty wakes me
turns my pain into poetry
my Good Friday into symmetry.
I will always write
do not worry your beautiful mind
about me. I am as you say
messed up,
drinking Metaxa with too much glee
creating words you will never see.
just another poem about death
hashtag death, make it concrete,
or damp like the earth
or kill the spirit
with the typewriter
but oh, how the clicking sound
lifts my soul
closer to yours.
I wiped my boots
clean again,
ready to write poems.
Comments:
19
Yup, we keep writing… Adding to our story. Love it <3
yes, xx thank you Violet. appreciate that. hugs
the line about never laughing again the way you did with him…it made my heart clench…
Thank you x
www.youtube.com/watch?v=YJw5QL8ighM
Not really the song I would like to hear but thank you nonetheless.
see and I think it’s spot on for this poem
I see it differently
Reblogged this on – RedHuman – and commented:
Poetic expression is highly valued as words describe the passion of human emotion. Cheers to this. Read and be well.
I loved this, Chrissy. This was full of lines that opened like trapdoors when I stumbled into them, taking me where… Not exactly sure and that was poignantly okay… It is a privilege to witness the view through another’s heart… To hear the alarm, and awaken to a glimpse of somewhere else…
Michael
wow thank you so much for the lovely compliment and feeling the poem…humbled you feel that way.
Chrissy
Well done once again, you’re a great influence in my writing and I love coming by to study you.
I would love to see you release a collection of poetry on print.
Everyone tells me that. I write books and publish novels. Poetry is for free here. One day maybe. X
Good Friday into symmetry. Excellent writing.
thank you – there’s a bit of truth there 🙂
Thanks for your visit. You have created a fine line portrait of the ongoing grief process. Well written with some very good imagery,
Elizabeth
soulsmusic.wordpress.com/
thank you for your nice compliment
Awesome prose, Chrissy 🙂
Thank you Joseph x