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writer...performer...sometime pop-up cinema host.

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Wednesday, 7 December 2016

Poetry Project on Death and Grief


Another poetry project, this time centred around death and grief. I have written this solely as an exercise in trying to use imagery to tell the story. I hope it works.

 





The soft wind brushes against a bristled chin

And in his heart he holds a candle

She is dead, he can hear it in the bells that toll

Yet she walks with him for all to see

But him, he is blind and grief has tethered

Itself to his soul. Wrapped its icy fingers

Around his neck; causing his lungs to fight for

Breath.

“I can hear.” He cries inside, and no-one can hear

Him, for his eyes are strewn with tears, and in those

Tired ducts a pool forms that takes us away to

A majestic lagoon where she sits, in deepest

Thought, wondering if he will ever return to her.

Yet those tears do not form the heart of the lagoon

It is hers, as she sits waiting patiently. Wanting his

Arms to wrap themselves around her again. In his

Eyes he does not see this, in his eyes there is

Nothing but fear and pain, and his lagoon

Is black as night; inky waters stain the landscape.

“I wish you could hear me.” She says.

“I wish I could hear you.” He wails in his sleep.

And his nights are tormented by demons of his past

The structure of his life now bent and withered

Like an old iron gate which no longer opens.

The soft wind brushes his bristled chin

And his tears fall like a waterfall.

 

Next week I shall do a video blog, hopefully you will all enjoy me reading some more poetry and I shall take a pick of some of my favourites.

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