Posts tagged ‘loss’

April 6, 2019

What Comes Before Silence

by HemmingPlay

Death is not bitter
death is a silence
But dying is bitter.
Dying is hard.
With you,
it was the sound.

It was like drowning,
no detail spared,
in slow motion…

with metastases of cancer
that filled the lungs
and grew, sending out
ghastly spawn to live in bone

read more »

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February 27, 2019

It Was the Sound

by HemmingPlay

Note: Don’t be alarmed. I am OK. This poem deals with something that happened nearly a year ago, but I’m just able to work my way into it objectively. It will be in a collection soon to be published, but as I prepare the pieces, I find there are still loose ends that need to be tied up by remembering. This was one.

Death is not bitter…
death is a silence
But, the dying is bitter.
Dying is full of the noise
of the going out.
It was the sound, I think,
that still haunts me,
the sound of your
struggle, the
death rattle.
(Such a bland phrase,
nothing like the
horror of the real thing.)

It was a drowning,
slowly,
inevitably,
the lungs full of fluids produced by
the metastases of cancer
the ravisher of lungs,
scatterer of foul seeds,
ghastly, evil children to stick in bone
and brain.

The relentless
sounds of drowning, your
poor, battered breastbone lifting,
tough heart refusing to stop
long after it should have.
Morphine hid the pain
but took your mind,
filled it full of phantasms
but it at least lay a
warm blanket over the pain

But the lungs were full
and drowned you deep
in dreamy waters, hours
after your spirit had
abandoned the failing husk.
An old friend said you visited her
in a dream hours before.

You had a spirit body,
alive and vigorous and young, happy, she said,
dressed in spring clothes
and driving a sky-blue convertible.
While I tried to give the body
some peace, and listened to
the rising dreamy waters, rattling,
It was a comfort to learn
you had escaped, and
driven away on your
great adventure.

In bright sunshine,
free, in a blue convertible, like the
one you had when we met
50 years before.

hemmingplay.com

February 23, 2019

Kintsugi

by HemmingPlay

thesink I will remember the kisses
our lips raw with love
and how you gave me
everything you had
and how I
offered you what was left of
me

–Charles Bukowski

And now, for a time, I must find the parts of me I’ve lost, and glue them back into a new whole. Kintsugi, finding beauty in imperfection; the art of precious scars. Perhaps I’ll mend the broken edges with gold this time.

1*2wxN1DsROOl4o0sHhYkDWA

 

February 1, 2019

A Morning*

by HemmingPlay

I remember certain things,
how it was a Sunday in
April, and the daffodils were late.
How the sun was out and
poured through the bay windows
of the bedroom, happy and warm,
like nothing was wrong,
like everything was normal.

I can’t feel it now, the exhaustion
of that awful last night,
blessed by how the brain
softens certain things with time.

read more »

January 14, 2019

MY FIRST PUBLISHED POEM – ARIEL CHART MAGAZINE

by thereluctantpoet

I’m So Very Happy To Announce That My Poem – “You Are My Forever And Always” Has Been Published In The Magazine Ariel Chart – January Edition.  I’d Be Honored If You Checked It Out!

It’s My First Published Poem!!

Come Check Out Ariel Chart And View Their Submission Guidelines  If You Have An Interest In Seeing Your Work Published.

Thanks So Much To You For Viewing, Commenting And Following My Blog!  I Appreciate It So Much!!!

Chuck Lindholm
The Reluctant Poet

 

November 19, 2018

Common Grief

by HemmingPlay


A local story tells
of a dam that blocked a creek in late ’60.
The water rose, year by year,
seeped over a poor family’s
rocky homestead,
the one that was supposed
to be an assured future.
58 years under
the dark, cool waves,
bass and perch swimming past
foundation stones covered in mud and algae.
The loss of a dream
is a reason

read more »

August 17, 2018

Crying

by HemmingPlay

*Part of the “Saying Goodbye” collection to be published soon. 

Do you remember our babies’
crying through the night
with colic, red-faced, kicking,
little fists clenched, punching the air?
We took turns with
futile soothings,
new at this baby thing,
desperate to comfort, to
silence that infernal noise
so we could go to work
in a few hours and not
fall asleep in the elevator.

They didn’t seem to want
comfort, did they?

read more »

August 15, 2018

YOU ARE MY FOREVER AND ALWAYS

by thereluctantpoet

By Charles Robert Lindholm

From The First Time
I Laid Eyes On You
I Loved You

It Was Love At First Sight,
And You Stole My Heart
Forever

That Moment
Was The Start
Of Me Loving You

read more »

May 22, 2018

Father, Son, Stars, Loss (for Bobby)

by King Turtle

I start to count them and stop
Not because there are too many
But because I cannot hold them
Accountable; the code sparkled
From their eternal glow calls
Me to be accountable to my life:

read more »

April 16, 2018

Altered Carbon

by braveandrecklessblog

I pinned my phosphorus heart

to the crisp linen sleeve

of my mourning suit

where all could see

your initials

carved deep

read more »

January 23, 2018

On Missing You Too Soon

by HemmingPlay

I find myself imagining
how the differences will
play out…
The unfamiliar,
lengthening silences,
stretching into the dusk.
The way dust devils will
gather in corners, waiting
for something that
will never come.

read more »

January 12, 2018

Unsettled

by Renwick Berchild

The misty ridden morning
waits like a pendulum in mid swing,
cross and blue, no longer alive,
leopard printed in death’s oily colors.

I untie the souls, with the windows
curving swards bent under the dewy dunes,
haled by dawn’s wet forehead,
no graves have been dug for this.

read more »

December 22, 2017

An Ordinary Day

by HemmingPlay

She had wanted to
sell the house.
She thought
he’d go first
leaving her alone.

Everything happens
on an ordinary day.

read more »

November 13, 2017

It Is Something To Have Been

by HemmingPlay
Karma-New-Orleans-Louisiana-USA-4

“Karma,” New Orleans, Louisiana, USA. An impressive sculpture is located in the Sydney and Walda Besthoff Sculpture Garden, which is found at the New Orleans Museum of Art. It is made by Korean artist Do Ho Suh.

I am well past my 20s,
that golden time
when I only saw a little—and even that
with optimistic eyes.

I’m past the days of cheap
apartments with friends and wine and roaches,
lentils and rice for breakfast,
or leftover cold pizza.

I’m beyond learning of
war and death and pestilence.
The visitations of grief
have marked me, too.

read more »

October 8, 2017

One More Burned Out and Innocently Gone

by K. T. Dibert

There’s miles ‘till dawn –

Even the moon’s moving on.

Another day, another song;

One more burned out and innocently gone.

read more »

October 4, 2017

Blinded by the Light

by braveandrecklessblog

night turned Armageddon

on a guitar pick

flashes easily mistaken for fireworks

eclipsed neon lights

further fall of civilization

read more »

September 28, 2017

A Tale of Two Towers-Christine Ray & Eric Syrdal

by braveandrecklessblog

Locked away in stone tower

rest of the world

fades

becomes dim memory

time loses meaning

becomes shapeless

days

nights

read more »

September 6, 2017

Tripped

by braveandrecklessblog

I stumbled

over our history

didn’t mean

to leave it on the floor

where anyone could find it

read more »

September 1, 2017

In the Park

by Nick Anthony

He wakes up on top of me
Wearing the same tattered clothes,
As dank and filthy as garbage
On a hot and humid afternoon.

He slips away every day before dawn,
Before they come to check on me
And clean my worn out skin,
And clear my space of thrown out dreams
And rusted needles, still dripping
With the cheap thrills of last night.

read more »

June 26, 2017

~ To Loss

by ladyliterati

Loss perched

Perched upon my days
As I walked through life…

Life in a daze

Enduring what could not

Be changed.
O’Prunty

6/25/17

Photo by: O’Prunty

Copyright Applies

June 19, 2017

Ephemeral

by braveandrecklessblog

Wanderer

passing through

slivers of place and time

unconsciously dropping pieces of

my heart

read more »

June 16, 2017

All That is Left

by braveandrecklessblog

achingly

sadness

feels like

drifting

like

falling

like 

read more »

May 30, 2017

CONCURRENT CHOOSING

by thereluctantpoet


By Charles Robert Lindholm

I can choose you
but what does it matter
unless you choose me too 

read more »

May 26, 2017

All or Nothing

by braveandrecklessblog

My imagination was captivated this morning by the lyrics of Ryan Montbleau’s All or Nothing


The minutes

hours

weigh heavily

upon my shoulders

in the aching night

where I replay

read more »

May 24, 2017

A Suitable Period of Mourning

by braveandrecklessblog

I do not have a closet

full of mourning clothes

I have never

inked the names of my dead

on my tender forearms in black

in solemn homage

The list too long

my arms too short

to box with god

read more »

May 22, 2017

You

by braveandrecklessblog

Your eyes are sometimes

All I can think of

When I lie here alone at night

In the bed we used to share

How you used to

Lie here next to me

read more »

May 1, 2017

Different, Yet The Same

by helenmidgley

The same

 

Text & Adaption : Helen Midgley

Original Photo : https://morguefile.com/creative/hotblack

April 27, 2017

Stars Slip Through My Hands

by braveandrecklessblog

the haunted hours

rendered transparent

ghost in my own life

my heart

an empty room

read more »