Some terrible things in my life have resulted in some black poetry…please forgive me while I try to work it out
Brenda, at the Sunday Whirl sent along this week’s words.
While I know they can be tumbled in any way, my mind is black and all I can write is black.
You see my dear friends, there’s been too much lately. Too much pressure, too much heartache, too much jet-lag and now, if you can believe it, my precious mini, my birthday present, a labour of love and restoration over these last 3 years, has been stolen in the most horrible, underhanded, threat-of-violence way.
Please forgive me while I get my black mood out in my little public forum.
In the end, I know that my family and the people I love are healthy and love each other and that I’m a lucky girl to have wonderful friends who love and support me. And I know those are the most important things in the world.
dazed, incense, ambivalence, empties, holy, scurries
breathing, fear, flaps, prayers, water, tenderness (Couldn’t manage “flaps”)
The trees are dazed.
They stand at the bottom of the garden weeping tears of blood. Their soft maple incense, their whispery, windy tenderness is silenced; their branches hung with tattered lace.
The tears drain into the ground and mix with water causing the ground’s sorrow to rise in a billowing cloud of mist in which the breathing of the drowning sun is stilled and silenced.
So are my prayers.
Black birds fly to me carrying invisible messages of violence and fear. I wonder who you are who sent them and what they have to say.
The cold of this evening of tattered branches and black birds holds me in its ambivalence and prevents me from stretching my hands to you.
There is no tenderness in my hands.
My words dissolve in the mist along with the last of the light.
But whether you hear them or not, my words will creep into your mind and tend your memory of me till I am there to balance it on the tip of my finger and send it spinning into space.
A pale star in orbit round your head.
Empties your inhibitions, entices with what you hold holy, and scurries over your skin like a featherweight finger or the tip of a tongue. Then silently draws a knife from its velvet sheath and plunges it into your heart.
Linda G Hatton
Oh dear, Veronica. I’m so sorry. You’ve left me teary-eyed, Such emotion behind your words. Hold on through the darkness. Sending love and positive energy.
Oh I’m sorry Linda, Thank you very much. Had a good sleep and today there is a bit more colour in the world.
Such a lush, gorgeous description of cruelty and pain. I love this writing for its rawness. Thank you, Veronica for sharing a piece of your journey with us. This is my favorite part:
“…entices with what you hold holy, and scurries over your skin like a featherweight finger or the tip of a tongue.”
Thank you Brenda. And that you for keeping the whirls going; I really love the discipline of writing them. This is the first time that I left a word out…that word just seemed too forced. I was telling Walt the other day that I seem to do the dark naturally. Not sure what that says about me when I’m not in a black mood! 🙂
A sip of dark brew now and again is honest. Too much artificial light creates a numbness that deadens the soul. This too shall pass. Take the riches even darkness has to offer. Be well.
I’m glad you said that Lori…exactly what I needed to hear. 🙂
Heart-wrenching and beautiful… I’m so sorry you’re going through a difficult time. I’ll keep you in my prayers.
Thank you Laurie, very sweet of you. 🙂
We can find light in dark times through our own words. You can count on us to be here for you!
Dana, you and the Wordsmith writing community are the best things which have happened to me in this on-line world. Thank you so much, your words mean everything to me.
Veronica, I’m sorry you are hurting. If I had a magic wand to wave for you…I surely would. So sorry to hear your mini was taken! I know you loved it. No apology needed for dark times and expressing your feelings during those time. We can all relate, and if we can’t, then we simply haven’t lived long enough yet. You wrote a beautiful dark piece. Blowing a big hug to you across the miles.
Sabra, you’re such a good friend and have been supporting me for a long time. I’m grateful and lucky to have you in my life. 🙂
Jeannine Bergers Everett
You just point me in the direction of whoever needs an ass-whupping. I’m not afraid to go all mama-bear on someone deserving.
Jeannine that sounds so wonderful and made me smile, thank you so much. (Rotten people holding my beautiful mini captive, England. One of a kind Farina gray mini restored with love…small island)
So sorry for the overwhelmingness of it all. Sometimes we gotta hit that dark side, to release the demons–you did a beautiful job. Hope that the sun comes out tomorrow
Sara, the weather report said rain but guess what! 🙂
Jane Ann McLachlan
So sorry to hear what you’ve gone through, Veronica. Writing it out is often healthy, and especially when the result is as beautiful and haunting and terrible all at once as this poem is.
I came by to see your post for the October Blog Challenge (http://janeannmclachlan.com/october-memoir-and-backstory-blog-challenge.html) Understandably, you’ve been sidetracked. I do hope you will join us, however. But if you’ve changed your mind, please let me know so I can take you off the blog hop.
But don’t change your mind! it would be great to have another poet participating, and there’s still plenty of time to do 25 posts in October.
Hi Jane Ann, I’ve reread the poem and it’s a bit terrible isn’t it…yikes…better tone my feelings down a bit. I’ve written about six poems already trying to work things out, so basically only 19 more to go…lol. I’ll pop over and see what’s necessary to join in the blog hop. 🙂
Such an eloquent portrayal of the way grief is mirrored by the wild, natural world around us. This is a lovely piece, but I am sorry that you were insipired to write it by going through an overwhelmingly tough time. I hope you will feel better soon.
Hi Andra, thank you very much; things are getting better and better. I’m so glad you left your site addy because now I can check out your blog! 🙂
Profound sadness, I so sorry that something crossed your path and left a destiny of a black mark on you. Even when we face the biggest stressors of all, having close friends and confidantes will help us survive the experiences. I beleive that dark poems help heal the wounds, that time/ people can’t.
Thank you so much Kim. I see you’ve gone thru awful struggles. My very best to you. Lovely that you reach out to others and try to help. 🙂
Veronica – The poem through the darkness and the pain is intense, powerful and beautiful. Yes, I agree so very much with Dana – that absolutely the darkness can help us find our own always illuminated spark and light our way through. In fact, a group of us – some of us known to many on these pages has just had a collection titled Beyond The Dark Room, An International Collection of Transformative Poetry. So synchronistic that this topic has come up tonight. Veronica – I did not miss that you stated that you are “working” this pain through. I think that the hard work is very evident and that despite the obvious and acute pain you are feeling there is light shining through.
Thank you drpkp. I see you’ve started a blog; would love to read some of your poetry and know your name. Is there a link you could tell me where I could find it? It’s wonderful that you’ve found a group of like-minded people to share with. The poetry collection sounds terrific. 🙂