UK /vɔɪd/ US /vɔɪd/
UK /vɔɪd/ US /vɔɪd/
Stan flew into Mary’s lovely romantically designed bedroom and examined his still beautiful,sleeping wife.She was reading Ted Hughes’ letters and had abandoned Wittgenstein. completely.She was also reading Sylvia Plath- the poetry of Negativity.Strange indeed he thought,for bedtime reading.But she always was a bit different.As usual, she had a big box of tissues on her bed in case any aberrant fluid might run from one of her orifices or a cough overwhelm her
She had so far not got a new man in her life; he was grateful ,as ,even though he was dead, he liked to come to see her and if another man was in the bed he would feel it wrong to spy on them to see if anyone else could warm up this semi- frozen yet delightful lady and give her what she needed before it was too late.She was already 89!Mary woke up all of a sudden and having leaped out of bed ,fell over and was sitting on the rug looking quite puzzled.With some difficulty, she managed to get up by turning onto her knees.She then went to the bathroom.
When she came back she tied a silk scarf around her eyes to keep the light out and lay back on her pillows.Stan would have liked to kiss her but was afraid she might get a shock.She didn’t read although one night she did sing psalms in bed before lying down with tears on her round cheeks as she remembered his last moments of human life.
She was still the most untidy person he had ever met and her room was full of pens,boxes of jewellery and scent not to mention a mountain of clothes,books and garishly coloured shoes and handbags..and a few rather superior ones
He went to the kitchen where Emile was watching the dawn through the glass door.
Hi ,Dad,how’re you doing up there now?
I am adapting slowly .said Stan.I wonder why you can see me but Mary can’t.
They both sat silently pondering this.
Well, nearly breakfast time,I’ll take another peek at Mary.
He went upstairs and Mary was laughing as she dictated her dreams into a laptop to make a video.
I dreamed Stan was here and he was pulling funny faces at me which made me laugh so much it woke me up.Then it happened again.
Stan turned and flew gently away thinking Mary must be getting better.
As for him,don’t people know that even in Heaven people miss their partners or children?
Now that’s a research topic for this year.
And don’t say,all of us
The marsh beside the sea,the muddy path
Hand in hand, in silence we both laugh
We hear the crickets’ gentle clicking sounds
Small wildflowers in joy will kiss the ground
By the salty,stabby, leaves of grass
Where busy insects cross the sandy path
The silence holds us in the dome of sky
And in the breeze, my hair will gently fly
I hold your hand without a need to speak
Observe more tiny insects by our feet
Reach the harbour where the ferry waits
You shall cross the Styx which is your fate
I lay my tender hand upon your cheek
There is no longer any time to speak
There are references like “burning violin” in this song to the Holocaust as there was an orchestra t play classical music when the prisoners went to work or when they went to to the gas chamber.And also to the Feast of Tabernacles when religious people live in tents or booths to remind them of their 40 years in the desert.It is also a harvest festival.
First the air is blue and then
it is bluer and then green and then
black I am blacking out and yet
my mask is powerful
it pumps my blood with power
the sea is another story
the sea is not a question of power
I have to learn alone
to turn my body without force
in the deep element.
(“Diving into the Wreck” by Adrienne Rich)
Adreinne Rich’s beautiful poem “Diving into the Wreck” is a long example of free verse. She uses simple language to explore the difficult concept of human relations. She also employs an extended metaphor of diving into a shipwreck as a corollary to understanding what went wrong in a relationship. In this excerpt, Rich the key poetic techniques of repetition, enjambment, and imagery to propel the reader forward and examine her themes. Like in all free verse, Rich uses no rhyme or strict rhythm.