Mourning Glory ~ #OpenLinkNight @dVersePoets
There is a core to the blackness
a throbbing heart that pulses
to unheard rhythms of despair...
Layer after layer
the light is buried deep
Days spent in flannel pajamas
housebound
staring over a garden
where the flowers cease to bloom
They judge
Demand action
as though there is control over the blackness
as though somehow with your rising
the flowers will once again blossom.
In the blackness there is truth
that all we do, all we feel
every single tear we cry
matters not to the core
for its fertility trumps time and space
It was before
It is now
It will always be.
A spirit lingers here
that fell from the sky without warning
Like a magnet
tethered to the heart of blackness
it is attached.
It was before
It is now
It will always be.
The truth of my faith is blackness
for in it
there is no light
to ignite my illusion.
The headstone
far enough away
I can pretend its not even there.
Claudia has got the pub keys, poets! Think we can convince her to open up early? It's OpenLinkNight at dVersePoets...where there is poetry on tap! See you at 3pmEST
a throbbing heart that pulses
to unheard rhythms of despair...
Layer after layer
the light is buried deep
Days spent in flannel pajamas
housebound
staring over a garden
where the flowers cease to bloom
They judge
Demand action
as though there is control over the blackness
as though somehow with your rising
the flowers will once again blossom.
In the blackness there is truth
that all we do, all we feel
every single tear we cry
matters not to the core
for its fertility trumps time and space
It was before
It is now
It will always be.
A spirit lingers here
that fell from the sky without warning
Like a magnet
tethered to the heart of blackness
it is attached.
It was before
It is now
It will always be.
The truth of my faith is blackness
for in it
there is no light
to ignite my illusion.
The headstone
far enough away
I can pretend its not even there.
Claudia has got the pub keys, poets! Think we can convince her to open up early? It's OpenLinkNight at dVersePoets...where there is poetry on tap! See you at 3pmEST
Comments
for in it
there is no light
to ignite my illusion....great lines that...and the closing stanza right on its heals as well....i find comfort in the dark actually...the moment before the sun comes up in the morning is the most peaceful for me...not sure i would want to be house bound though, no matter how comfortable the flannel pjs
a throbbing heart that pulses
to unheard rhythms of despair...
Layer after layer
the light is buried deep....speaks to me of more than just the normal darkness..but more of the darkness of the mind in a depression...wonderfully penned piece tash
"The truth of my faith is blackness
for in it
there is no light
to ignite my illusion.
The headstone
far enough away
I can pretend its not even there."
Bril. Just, bril. Wow. You made this verbose dilettante speechless.
If you were within reach, I'd hug the hell out of you, :) luv, Mosk
they judge, demand action as though there is control over the blackness...'
I think that is such a poignant and accurate description for the paralysis that grief can bring. Great write Tash.
Life is filled with both, we swing between them and mark our days with their pattern.
Really powerful piece!
for in it
there is no light
to ignite my illusion."
This is one of those great poems where the meaning can allude to several things depending on where the reader wants to take it: depression, death and mourning, loss of faith. Well penned, Natasha.
"A spirit lingers here
that fell from the sky without warning
Like a magnet
tethered to the heart of blackness
it is attached."
Your images are moving as well as powerful. Well done.
It is now
It will always be."
no matter the intensity of what we are going through, life does not stop or even take notice.
a powerful write, Natasha! LOVE it!
♥
Thus the need for time off in the deep, for distance from the stone. Your repetitions, many pauses for breath push these images into the soul.