A Thought for Every Word

Posts tagged ‘loss’

Post Mortem

If it no longer beats, it is useless.
If it is useless, throw it out,
Can’t be missed if it no longer beats.
Won’t be noticed among all the clutter.

If it no longer beats, it is useless.
Useless things are discarded,
Out of sight, gone, and forgotten.
So many broken and empty shells.

If it no longer beats, it is useless.
To remove it you could use a spoon,
A pry bar, an icepick, a velvet glove.
Or words like razors that slice.

If it no longer beats, it is useless.
Can’t be reused or recycled,
Recharged, reclaimed, or rekindled.
And no one cares if it died.

A Soldier’s Mother

When he told me he was leaving,
I cried for a while.

When he told me he was settled,
I sighed and I smiled.

When he told me he was outbound,
I worried for a time.

When they told me he was coming home,
I ached deep inside.

He went where he wanted.
He did what he felt best.
He believed he was right.

How could I protest…

Final Curtain ~ Haiku

whispered final words

unkempt sorrowful faces

angel cries out loud

Found

to be heard when the words have lost their music
and every breath rails against the air

to be seen when the light has lost its brilliance
and the edges dull and blur

to be held close when the wind begins to howl
and the storm reaches the shore

is to be remembered when the road dead ends
is to be loved for evermore

Lost

empty rooms with billowing pillowcases
caught in the breeze of moving bodies
as they tote the boxes out

bubble wrapped time worn memories
held suspended between sheets of dotted air
and corrugated paper

stacked like silent watching sentries
positioned back against the wall
of missing frames

Remembering To Breathe

This week, friends were lost.

And whether a long illness, or an act of senseless brutality, all losses are painful.

You weep, and flail against the silence.  You gasp for air, and feel the bite of the bitter chill in your throat.  You want to hold the pain close to you, knowing it is the last thing you will feel for that loss.  You cling to the pain…until a moment slips in between the pain and doubt, and you find the strength to lift your head, breathe deep, and shake off the cold chill.  You start to seek out the things you remember were always there to help you move on, or remind you of the good you once felt.

For me, it is the ocean. There is something magical about the ocean for me, whether it is because my father loved it so, or because I managed to find it on my own terms, it has always been a place of healing and renewal.  I went to the coast this past week for a change of attitude. I went to breathe in the salt air, to remember old friends~ now gone, and to find new ones.  Sometimes I have to stop and remind myself that I am my own best friend.

Here are the pictures of these past few days.  It all started with a kite ~

1960s Obstruction

Did it hurt when he took you
Thrust for thrust in small rooms
Dust thick on bakelite surfaces
Sealed by years of neglect

The cat on the wall wagged its tail
The speckled counter top blistered under the heat
Crocheted trivets in muted technicolor
Boxed in moments of regret

He pinned you down and hurt you
Black and white memories
Metal cups with little sweaters catching dew drops
A hole in which to hide

Sunken treasure and mermaids
Driftwood and gritty residue on white bread
Star gazing with cosmonauts and missiles
Waving goodbye to childlike dioramas

Cyberlover

Cyber dots on spidery webs
conceal the truth,
tempting you to believe
there is more

Wanting the words to continue
believing in the mystery,
succumbing absently
to the overkill

The distance closed by a thread
of words typed on white,
endless margins of
fragrant backgrounds

Colored music notes
of ecstasy touch,
lie hidden behind cyber dots
on spidery webs

I Will Leave

 

When the time is right I will sing

and herald long all my losses

gathered waiting in my mouth

to spill upon the lilting air

louder

When the time is right I will fly

and take with me all my loves

crammed against my breast

to fill my heart as it drums

faster

When the time is right I will leave

and put away all my knowledge

poured with relish into a cavern

locked away with memories

forever

Liar’s Lair

the bitter taste of his lust

sits on my tongue like battery acid

blisters form

he defiled the sanctuary

creating pustules of angst

 

he cheated me out of my revenge

and i spit the bile from aching lips

all is gone

i no longer feel the need to cling

to vines of dripping oil

 

the bitter taste of his lust

will dissipate like steam spouts

as i move further

into fog shrouds of dried tears

and grasp no more at tethered loins

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