Tag: grief

How I miss your eyes

Dearest sister how I miss your eyes

Grey green as the sea as up it rides

In the sadness of the water as it sighs

In the s d go quelching of the sand beneath the tide

Sister dearest sister I’m alone

I miss your quiet voice I miss your face

I cannot reach you now by telephone

But loving memories are not erased

Last year you came to visit me at home

You  filled my fridge with food you were so kind

Now I feel the sadness in my bones

I only see you here within my mind.

The inner seas are wild they moan with grief

Time goes slow, we weep, we are bereaved

I’m lonely, just for you.

I didn’t know I’d love you
With both my heart and mind
Every love is different
Each is a special kind

I didn’t know I’d miss you
In quite the way I do.
For we can’t feel emotion
Before its time is due.

And are you missing me now
Despite angelic hosts?
They may care for you .my love

But I think I care the most.

Yet all human lovers
Must part and go their ways.
Some may die and fall to dust
Some may go astray.

I didn’t know I’d love you
And hurt invade my heart.
I didn’t know tm you’d love me.
But we would have to part.

From mother and her bosom
From father and his strength
We lose and gain throughout our life
Whatever is its length.

I didn’t know I’d miss you
With all my suffering heart.
But . as we’re made of fragile flesh.
Humans sadly part.

If you had been a sadist
If you had been unkind.
I would not now be grieving
And losing half my mind.

So I should be grateful
For being found and known.
I wish you were still sitting here.
And I were not alone.

When we feel so lonely
No-one else will do.
It’s not that I ‘m just lonely.
I’m lonely, just for you.

In the wet and stony
Pathways we must go
We must keep on walking;
Be patient when we’re slow.

The inner force is working
To make new maps for me.
Wherever they shall guide my steps,
With you I’ll long to be.

I miss

I miss the cat that slept upon my bed.

I miss my husbands presence in the night

I miss the words of Love from him who’s dead.

I miss the cat that slept upon my bed

For God is dead unless I find new light

The lonely darkness fills my soul with dread.

I missed the man that slept with me in bed

I miss his presence in the dead of night

Teach me how to cry

Daddy, how we missed you when you died
None had understood but one of five.
Come back,Daddy,miss your sunny eyes

I imagined we must never cry
When the cancer took your life
Poor Daddy, how you suffered,then you died

When you wanted company, I tried
I was too articulate for my age
Come back,Daddy,miss my Daddy’s eyes

By the flower beds, you wanted a guide
You wanted me to talk.I really tried.
Daddy we fell down a hole, why did you just die?

You slept all alone when pain arrived
We girls slept with mammy, on your side
Come back,Daddy, don’t you miss our eyes?

I always hum like you did, though I’m shy
You are singing through me, close and wise
Daddy, we have missed you all our lives
Come back,Daddy, teach me how to cry.

How my heart breaks

Heart of darkness,

Shadowed, unknown.

Heart of wildness,

Destruction zone,

Heart, once sacred,

Not more a home.

Heart of  loving

Now over thrown.

Pity humans,

Not our own.

No society

We’re lost,alone.

Children’s wonder

Christmas blown.

Like the leaves,

El nino’s own.

Heart’s compassion

Make us one.

Lord have mercy

Eleison.

Kyrie

Eleison.

Kyrie

Communion.

Missing

I ‘m missing him like we miss  that lost tooth till the gum heals.
I ‘ve been in the dentist’s chair
Had the anaesthetic but  still  felt the tug  and force.
And the dentist yelled,look at this,
I got it all out in one
You see,the root was very twisted and tangled
I told him,take it away.
I’m missing my other because his absence makes a hole
like that bloody hollow in your jaw but in the soul.
Came home alone from the clinic
Felt that  soul hole.The first time
when he wasn’t here.
God doesn’t do anaesthesia, just burns the bush
I’m missing him because he needed me so much
Now nobody needs me nor notices if I am here except Alfred
Or if I fall over in the garden,will I die and rot down to the earth before
my neighbour recalls he’s not seen me for three weeks.Or maybe five.
I miss J the way you’d miss your flesh
if someone shot you with a rifle and made a tunnel through your body;
took out a lump which would hurtle away and fall to earth.
I’m missing his honey smell.
the knowledge,the feeling  he had of me.
The hole in my space is almost tangible
in this room.
I wake up and wonder what he’d like to eat today.
But the dead don’t eat at our tables do they?
I remember I  am alone at the table and I can eat whatever I like.
Oh,love,why did you down so fast?When you were the one,solid I leaned on.You were my man and you are gone

Where our consolation is

When  others acts push splinters through our souls

And into strangers ears we pour our woes..

When grief and sorrow shudder thriough our walls.

And whether all is lost we cannot know

When what is in or out we cannot tell

When fantasy and dream become confused.

When darts of agony are felt to maim each cell.

When sensibility is utterly bemused. .

He ,in whom I to trusted, wills to fail

For what he  claimed  was friendship  was desire.

Now pain and disappointment make  me frail;

With torment know this person was a liar.

Then, having lost all other means to live,

We turn to darkness where our consolation is.

Destruction

Wakening up,remembering.
The rain falls onto the windows like an angel’s tears
Thinking all the time,it was a bargain they wanted
.. not this…….not this… no,no
Is there a name for this destruction
which destroys also those who commit such acts?

A haunted Europe;Britain
the interfering empire,grasping at the world’s wealth
have made a patchwork out of Eden
Here where man began to be civilised
where we learned to make an aleph bet
and to write on scrolls
where God spoke from the fire
Why is it here that the hate is so strong?
What did we steal from these Arabs
when we bought their oil and made them wealthy
Materially,only; they had the wealth of knowledge and learning; they who invented the abstractions of mathematics?How have they become who they are?

And from those learned Jews when we plundered their religion
their Book and their G-d.
And their mystical traditions and learning..
and scattered them like dust across the diaspora
Our rulers and others thieved like starving beggars
and sat watching as they struggled?
How can religion be used with such cruelty?
The hate they should feel to the West
is transferred to their neighbours.

The wet eyed and heart weary,the strained and tearless too,
those whose hearts are heavy with
the pain of unsheddable tears
They turn again to the mountain
the steep climb continues
Tears water the path and the cold earth
As we look into the heart of darkness
Hoping for a sign
Or at least to be ready for a sign…
Those who have eyes to see,let them see

But he said, “I will not ask; I will not put the LORD to the test

Why and how Sylvia Plath disappointed me

Image

 

Until last year I had read only  the most famous of Plath’s poems like “Daddy”.Then I read many more and also many works of criticism and explanation.And then I realised she was one of the  most gifted poets of her era. But alas, her maturity as a poet coincided with the breakdown of her marriage.And so her talents were used to  express mainly rage and then meaninglessness and death.

Was it only the tragedy of  her life situation that brought about her mature voice ? I believe not. And so I grieve that her wonderful works were full of rage and destructiveness…. what would she have written otherwise.I also believe that her motives in marrying Hughe were mixed…. and so  were his to her.Marriage is entered into too lightly and without understanding.I almost feel arranged marriages were better sometimes

Now maybe it  is wrong of me to say this but I know we all are acquainted with anger, envy,jealous and other painful emotions .But  I believe to cultivate them is not moral. And to utilise them in Art is something dangerous and maybe destructive. And without specifying any religion or  ethical system I believe acting ethically is more important than art, music,writing and so on…not that there is always a conflict.

I may appear to counsel perfection but I merely grieve for the loss of a genius and what she might have written if she had been given support and help when left alone with two  tiny children in a foreign land.

If we have gifts let us use them for good and for the encouragement of our  human companions on this  planet and not for harm,destruction ,stealing wealth and creating evil

Grief is like….

Grief is like driving at night.You can see only a few feet in front of uou,but you can make a whole journey that way.562732_10200197585195760_396877548_n

G

E.L.Doctorow

“This ia a good analogy. much of life may be like that

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My computer is on the verge of total meltdown

Cats fiveMy hard disk is failing I fear

So the engineer will come here

He’s taking the machine away

So I’ll have a non writing day.

I  am losing the machine tomorrow for 7/10 days…. not very good for my Xmas shopping.But hey who wants a present?Let them eat cake,snake or drake!

I only have this one computer which is  possibly a grave error but there we go.we must go with the flow.

My cursor is leaping about…. let’s hope they fix that,

The prospect of losing all my pics and poems is not worrying me as I can write more.So we’ll meet again,don’t know where,don’t know when….

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Touch me again

Hand in colorize

Art by Katherine

When he went away

He went away

Away.

I didn’t know where

where

he had gone

where had he gone?

The call came.:

call came….

Man,white,good health

Has died.

Has died alone

Died alone in an hotel room.

So a stranger would find him.

Man alone;

man alone in hotel room.

there was a man

alone

in his hotel room.

Not wanting to be any trouble.

trouble,no trouble alone

in his hotel room

not his room,you see.

not a shared room…

An hotel room.

Tall man with light brown hair

alone in a small hotel room

with no TV.

We had no smartphones

Smart

Phones

No,don’t tell , not me ,not yet.

Not me.

He was all alone.

He was behind glass

glass walls

windows

a window of glass.

I could never touch him.

I could not touch him.

not touch,no,never,

Man alone.

Solitary man.

Tall man with brown hair.

Beds for love

Beds for leaving.

Don’t you die alone

in that hotel room.

Don’t die

Don’t go

You wanted to be alone,

I thought…

you were

afraid to feel.

Thin skinned and pale like a torn petal from a wild plant.

You were alone again

And you left me all alone;

alone without you.

Now I’m alone

in my hotel room.

my room.

Someone knocks.

I’m dreaming of you

wishing you were near me.

dreaming,wishing,

lonely for you.

He was all alone,they said.

In an hotel room.

His doom

In a lonely bedroom.

Don’t leave me yet.

Yet you were never here

behind your window

I see you

but can’t touch you.

Can’t touch you.

Can’t touch.

Touch me.

Touch me again.

Love me…

You were all alone

alone.

Why did I not break the glass?

Break the glass;

The glass.

Touch me again

Touch me again

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Trying to recreate the world

 

The Lindens of Poissy, by Claude Monet (1882).
The Lindens of Poissy, by Claude Monet (1882). (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

Claude Monet, photo by Nadar, 1899. Français :...
Claude Monet, photo by Nadar, 1899. Français : Claude Monet par Nadar en 1899. Türkçe: İzlenimcilik akımının öncülerinden olan Fransız ressam Claude Monet’nin, fotoğrafçı yurttaşı Nadar tarafından 1899 yılında çekilmiş fotoğrafı. 1840 ile 1926 yılları arasında yaşayan Monet, bu fotoğraf çekildiği sırada 50’li yaşlarının sonundadır. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

The bus is late and I’m

Thinking of what you said,

trying to understand, but

I’ve never met you,so

I have nothing but written words

which,however beautiful,may not give

enough for me to truly imagine

the depths of your heart.

My legs hurt and I have a cane,

but I don’t like it.I can’t accept

my own infirmity,my troubles,

my pains,my disagreements,my mistakes.

Rain falls over me and drips down the lens

in my spectacles,as if the world is weeping

the tears I can’t shed.

If I cried now,standing at the bus stop,

for all the years of pain

noone would know,they’d

think it was just

raindrops running down my cheeks.

The bus comes,but it’s half term…

The shops are too crowded,I can’t

stand in queues…imagine how most of you

say it’s boring.Well,I’d love to do it

but I’ve decided the pain is greater

then the rewards.

The bus driver stops at a place where

the pavement has been lowered to allow

the owner of this house to drive

their car into the front garden

so they won’t need to buy

a resident’s parking permit.

It makes it a harder task to descend

from the bus and I hope he won’t

start while I’m still getting down.

In the coffee bar are exhibits from

a local museum,and I think,one day

my cane and my watch from Argos,

my shopping bag with a picture of Monet–

such vulgarity…..

they may be in a museum too…

along with my door keys

my bike lock and my spectacles

and will somebody try to conjure me up

in their imagination.

Someone who used to like Topology.

knitting,writing and holding hands with lovers

on the top deck of the bus

crossing central London without noticing

anything except their reflections in the eyes

of the other.

Light bounces to and fro.

My mind shuts down, the words

packed away in boxes,till there’s only

you and me and a few elementary particles

trying to recreate the world

with the big bang

that will end it all.

 

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Your absence has so distanced us in grief.

Image

I try to feel through dark and distant space
To where you dwell in a so called “heavenly” place.
And you are far from those of us, who care.
Our hearts are dulled with loving thoughts not shared
Your absence has so distanced us in grief.
We can neither share our loss, nor gain relief.
I stare into the star filled sky at night
And see a space almost devoid of light.
I feel into the edges of my soul
I sense,somewhere, a partially dismembered whole.
Would new technology be able to aid my view,
As I search everywhere for some tiny trace of you?
How can someone vanish suddenly in the night,
And never ,from then on, be in my sight?
I wish that I’d been there when you went off,
Then I could have expressed ,in touch,my heartfelt love.
Shall I never hear again your gleaming tenor voice
Enchanting me once more with your intriguing choice?
Shall I not even find the laces from your shoes,
Floating gently back to earth through these  elm trees?
I see more flocks of gracious geese flash by.
Are those your fingers tracing lines across the sky?
Do you too see these geese from up above?
But you’re on the other side, too far from love.
And even with the very new best technology
There’s no way back now , so you won’t ever be
With us again,Goodbye,Goodbye Goodbye
I’ll turn away my tear filled green- blue eyes,
And look at all that’s near,as I’m still here.
I know now you’re too far away ,too far away, too far away ,my dear.
I know now that you’re too far away,my dear.
How can we learn to live with love, not fear,
As we go on ,now, down these coming years?
So sad that you’re not near,not here,not here,my dear.
Shall I sometimes, in the night pretend, you’re there,
Oh,that heaven were not  so agonisingly too ,too far?
As we slide down the escape chute of the years,
Like children clutching at our teddy bears.

Lehitraot”… “araka” … uvidimsya pozzhe..”auf wiedersehen”….. “a plus tard”

 

“See you later” is sometimes “Goodbye”

 
 
 
Source: Kathryn
Blackness
 
  • For all mothers or fathers who have lost their sons or daughters whether in battles of war,persecution, or other catastrophes who will never hear them say “See you later” again

 

When he went away,

He said,”Lehitraot,mama.”

Do vstrechi.

He died but I’m still here

Yes,in my heart I feel his love.

But why did I live,

And he did not?

Auf wiedersehen

Lehitraot.

Yes,darling,I’ll see you later,

When the sky turns black and all the stars blaze bright

I’ll see you shining in the night.

I’ll see you in my dreams alas.

Do vstrechi.

But why you and not me too?

Araka

I can’t understand.

Lehitraot,beloved.

A plus tard

Some where in this world,you fell

But no-one,not even God, can tell.

God was absent then or in some other place

He’s gone again.

They said He’s died too,

But He didn’t have a mother like you.

Do vstrechi.

My breasts ache and my heart and soul,

My breasts were made to make you whole.

To feed, give love and to console.

A plus tard

And now they ache with grief as my tears fall.

A bientot

My body trembles in the night

As dreams may bring my lost ones to my sight.

A plus

I’d walk across the roughest bleak terrain

If l I could find my loves and hold your hands again.

Do vstrechi.

The bell rings on the ancient clock

As time goes on as normal ,it doesn’t stop.

Araka

I wish the hands of time could be reversed,

And I was not living with this curse.

People forget that I once had a son.

They think my grieving has been done.

Araka.

But grief and loss and pain will never end

Until the curtain of my death descends

Auf wiedersehen.

Meantime I look at flowers and birds and trees,

But it’s really you my deepening insight sees.

Lehitraot.

Th inscape of my heart is shown to few,

An artist of the lost would know this view.

I know I want to see just you.

Do vstrechi.

But for me there is no

Auf wiedersehen

Never again will you say

What you said that day

Lehitraot,

Mama.

Papa

A plus tard

Tot ziens.

See you later

See you soon.

See you.

 

You