Words come, go, whether I stop to think about the pain or drive it from my mind. Never really gone, it rises when I fall victim to regret, consider wasted moments when I long for those out of reach, no longer here. I reach for words they will never hear, never sure if the words will reach me.
This poem is my response to Poetics: From a place of pain, the prompt from Ingrid at dVerse ~ Poets Pub, which is “to revisit a time in your life when you have felt pain (emotional or physical, acute or chronic) and come out on the other side stronger.” I don’t think I’ve ever survived such a moment in a way that made me any stronger. Instead, I consider myself just as vulnerable.
This grief that is mine, that has been mine these many years, that has plagued me with its persistence, has lost its bitterness. Bittersweet perhaps, though never bringing the pleasure of a cherry that is savored in spite of its tartness. It still delivers a chill, yet keeps me warm with the memories that it stirs. It is those that I savor.
This poem is my response to Poetics: Always in Season, the prompt from Mish at dVerse ~ Poets Pub, which offers three options. Mine is in regards to writing “about an emotion or abstract concept,” is to “an emotion or abstract concept. What does it taste like?”
Apologies, for continuing in the vein of yesterday’s response to dVerse. While that one was difficult for me, I was able to write this in a more objective manner.
yet feels as though it has stopped,
knowing that mourning
has the power to be endless.
Time passes, and a life follows
its course, its pulse subject
to random intrusions.
Music will play the strings
of a heart, so that it seems
as if it will never heal.
A memory, no true intrusion,
may become a knife, turning,
tracing old scars.
Yet it’s the brilliance of that music
and the beauty of those memories
that have the power to sustain.
And a heart continues to beat.
This is a response to Poetics: Cry Me a River, the prompt from Amaya at dVerse, which is to write a poem about a piece of music that has the power to bring a listener to tears. That would be Samuel Barber’s Adagio for Strings.
Image source: Curtis Institute of Music – Samuel Barber
This sorrow knows no loss.
Decades mean nothing
when it wells at the light
in your eyes, your image
a reminder of all we share,
my face more like yours
with each passing year.
My own eyes could be yours,
but moist now with memories,
my smile just as tentative,
until it beams with laughter.
When I smile. But for now
I think of your heart. Would I
give you mine instead, spare you
the pain you knew, only to give you
the pain I feel at this moment?
The prompt for NaPoWriMo.net Day 18 is to write an elegy, with the abstraction of sadness portrayed through physical details. Grief is not something that weighs on my mind every day, but memories such as this are just as hard to write about as they would have been twenty-five years ago.