Tag Archives: grief

Run

Press against resistance

deliver from moments left on the floor

scattered across the hall

I run.

Seething at darkness creeping

into photograph ghosts left hanging

littering walls with pain

I run.

run…

Where can I go
Where the images cannot touch memory
and memory not ravage tender heart bleeding?

and so I run
down halls with walls hung with tears.

Advertisements

Courting of Grief [Ward against Cancer]

They say he has cancer
words in sheep’s clothing
hungry, tooth heavy words
low and crawl
before the bite and thrashing
and you know the moment
when it all slows down?
when it .
all .
slooo.o.o..ws .
dowwwwn…
every detail emblazoned
as his start to fade
despite rescuing hands to sink
more softly – all I can hear is
her at my door:
Grief
… a fickle mistress
lingers outside the room
in the hallway just before winter
she,
laughs at a thought
brings tears a tear later
as she hurries you through
the swinging doors
she,
bustles the waitress
and refuses dinner
then calls her friend Guilt
to gossip as you sleep
she,
washes you in keenings
somber melodies of grieving
then picks you up to dance
at a bright light of hope
for which you know not its
origin, only she whispers it
and it must be true.
And be it or not, she waits
dressed as casual as a nightingale
and as regal as a raven
she waits
as do I
her mutterings to divinities
saturate my lips.
Grief
….a fickle mistress
lingers outside the room
in the hallway
just before winter
and long long long after
into the heavy nights of
spring.

Off the Cuff: Father are you listening

Father are you listening
your image casts a shadow on my heart
I see your shape
I smell your cologne
I hear your jolly laughter
wafting down the halls of my soul
and yet, the color of you fades
I
desperately need to keep you
I
desperately need to hear you
I
need your words
your sound advise
resonating over the wire
if only heaven had a phone
if only
my silent tears
from the smile I present
could dial up
the man who
is my
Father
are you listening
do you see me
do you still sense your daughter near
to you hear me calling
through the halls of the Divine
and do you know
chaos has taken refuge
has moved in down the street
has made a mockery of me
in my struggle to
remember all your words in the tones
and punctuations of

::sighs::
Father
are you listening
are your speaking
because the echo of your life
is just an echo of who I want to be
and I can’t find fill the shape
with any part of me
I miss your kind words
the power
of your catching my back when
I want to slump down at the
moments of not good enough
you always
had …
me….
Father…
are you

listening.