it would start off like this:
i’m sorry
i stole your my little pony wallet
the one more purple than your hair
because my fifth grade money fit so
perfectly
and i’m sorry
i thought a boy named rooster
wasn’t good enough to hold your hand
in a no-name town that never saw you
coming
and i am sorry
that sandwich bags and sundays
weren’t enough of a reason to
stay
hey
you’re lookin’ good, kiddo
like your dress
yeah
i’m still a mess
and no
i don’t play table tennis
anymore
you were always so much better
than this
life
isn’t the same
y’know how it goes
yes
i’d rather be swimming
too
and you had laughed
that in 7 days you’d return like christ
whose knee you had sat on one dark eve
hoping for a pony because you were too poor
to walk back to
me
i know
that old folk’s home will sure be
lonely
without chinese checkers
and a cup of your famous
mint tea
do you see
why i hate you
for believing in me
just because i had saved you
since 13
and i hate
that i was stronger than
you
o god
how i
h a t e
you
my tissue saint
but despite the blindness
i know now
your bruises weren’t always
paint
i won’t waste time
asking
why
and i won’t insult
with
forgiveness
you are sleepy with apple pie and ginger ale
and i know you’ll be busy singing alto by morning
it must be nice to dine on peach jolly ranchers
and tuck hands behind a head soaked in piano moonlight
such things i’ll witness
one of these days
this place that shines
this place called
not here
Author notes
This is for my cousin Teresa, my blood, my avatar, my only true loss...I still miss you...
In a list
A contest entry
- a final conversation by Cat.
625 points, ended December 18, 2006, 15 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 68 of 68
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"you are sleepy with apple pie and ginger ale"
I can think of no better description than this one, Darcy. This is such a wonderful poem for your loved one, your missed one. I'm sure she wept such luminous angel tears upon hearing your heartsong sung so beautifully, so deeply from your rawness, your place where you dream together. I read Teresa's works on your author's page, too. Such brilliance danced within her pen. I believe that Heaven is a library, with pen & parchment at the ready for us all. How else could it be called Heaven? Congratulations on the gold, Sweetie. I only read a couple of entries before it closed, but this one shone too brightly to have been overlooked by any of us. Utterly gorgeous. 
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there are no words to sum up how brilliantly penned this is. It's full of heart and soul...the type of poetry that moves me, brings tears to my eyes. Excellent
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i'm blown away
top notch stuff here ... very enveloping to the reader.. . to this reader anyway
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Oh, she has a kind face. I thought it was yours for so long.
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I can't say I relate, but you sure as hell make sure the reader does anyway, lol. It felt like I was going through it and god, it's so painful. Stunning and sad and here's a hug just for you
Jeanette*~
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Congrats on the gold trophy... though this wasn't my favorite style of poetry, you did do quite a nice job bringing you emotions so life. I'm extremely sorry for your loss... and I hope you are able to recover.
THANK YOU for entering and good luck.
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Yikes is right ...
this is quite a write. Missing someone who is never coming back is a particularly bitter poignancy, and not much helps in those circumstances. Anyway, I'm sure she'd have loved this. I do.
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very cool
i like the way you put things
im not even sure what you are writing about
but it doesnt even matter
and thats the really cool thing
i just love the way you write about it
the fact that i dont quite understand
i count as a good thing
if it were all clearcut
it might as well be a textbook
i like not knowing quite what the plot is
it makes room for my own emotions
my own take on things
ive said for a long time
its not what you write about
thats for journalists and storytellers
no its how you write about it
i like the way in which you write about
whatever it is that you may happen to be writing about
i think this present piece
may be a particularly good example
it seems almost complete to me
and i view completion the same as perfection
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Wow, what a powerful poem and such full of feelings, very good write.
Amber -
I love the changes in this. This piece nearly brought me to tears. If I keep reading it, it probably will.
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this is beautiful
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you just cured my headache
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Thank you.
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this has left me speechless.
that doesn't happen often... i will simply applaud as hard as i can...
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Wow... The atmosphere in this poem is so nostalgic and beautiful. I like every bit of it. The ending gives it so much power... I think it makes your point so well that you have to go back and read it again just because it is too touchy.
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As always you are too kind, dearest. I'm so glad you enjoyed this piece. It's very special to me and it's always such a delight when someone notices and can appreciate it.
Again, my thanks...
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o my god, I'm crying o.o ughh.. this is truely touching, and simply reminded me of my own loss. Hope it gets easier for you, I know it doesn't
X Marina X -
so deserving. one of the best pieces i think i've read from you. i loved every bit of it, i cant even single out one stanza. you continue to amaze me after all of this time.
i missed this.
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Simply fabulous. And sad.
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oh my goodness! wow, you're SUCH a talented writer...!
this is so heartfelt and just wow. sorry I'm a bit breathless at the moment.
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Memories carved into the soul. A glimpse of the journey taken with a loved one. I love the moment that the piece unravels.
My favorite lines:
my tissue saint
but despite the blindness
i know now
your bruises weren’t always
paint
Thanks for sharing.
---"I don't know what to say. Do read my mind."---VIRGOAN
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Thank you, my dear...actually, those lines are my personal favorite too, just because I tend to want to place 'blame' and 'responsibility' on her for her actions...I guess it's a normal reaction to things that we can't understand or control. Yet, when I look back, when I really SEE what was happening to her and in her life, I can't say that I don't understand...at least on some weird level of rationality. And then, I just nod...and accept. I don't want to, but it has to happen...and that's where I am now.
Once more, thank you for your kind comment.
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damn
I've been reading quite a bit of poetry this morning to see what (if anything) I had been missing the last few months. This is what I was missing, this what I had forgotten about. The real poetry out there, the raw stuff that makes me want to vomit all over my keyboard. I hope you realize how amazing this is. It takes me by my collar and drags me all over my life. Its fucked up really, this has probably a million meanings to me. This is the kind of poetry that makes me taste things, smell things, see things, feel things. It isnt just blabbering on about god knows what like a potato sack filled with pretty words, because no one really gives a fuck how educated you are when it comes to poetry, atleast not me. All I look for is a feeling, some sort of face-slapping attention grabber that can make me relate no matter how remote the situation may be, I'll feel as if it were mutual. That is what makes you an amazing poet ma'am, the ability to do that. I have not yet read poetry that makes me feel that way, be it by Sylvia Plath or Fuckface McSuicide, I still don't feel like this with other poetry. I have once or twice, but your poems ALWAYS bring forth this feeling. You should give classes on how to not be full of shit.
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My darling dear Jane...There are times when I look back on a piece and realize belatedly that it could sometimes be seen as writing to two people. In this sense, and in the realms of what has happened recently...I'm glad that this wasn't written for you as well...
I love you.
Very.
Much.
Me
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i feel faint
I am prostrate on the floor...why must you beat me like this! Wonderful
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Oh my darling Ruby...god, I can't tell you how I felt when I learned you were going through your own troubles. It reminded me so sharply of what my cousin went through. The pain, the pills, the long nights of not knowing what was real and just wanting to give it all up. I am SO incredibly happy and grateful that you have survived your ordeal and with your spirit intact and your brilliance still glowing. You are the ending for which I had wished for Teresa.
Thank you for still staying...here...
Love to you, my angel.
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There are very few poems on this site that actually touch me... this one did. I've read this a time or two, already, but each time it creates that suffocating feeling of sorrow, of loss.
This is poetry. This is pain. This is perfectly heartwrenching.
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Sweet Annalise...once more, thank you so much for stopping by. I often do, too, just because I keep hoping that if I read this out loud long enough, she'll actually hear it. I am amazed at how kind people have been to this, and I just wish she could know how much she effects people even if it's just through me and my memories.
So thank you again. It is just yet another spurt of energy and good will that I hope will reach her wherever she is.
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Gold Worthy Rich Text
i just knew this was going to end up on the top of the pile. lines like "sandwich bags and sundays"
"i hate that i was stronger than you"
"wont insult with forgivness"
they seem so simple at first glance.
but in the context of this piece they say so much.
an exceptional piece no doubt.
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Thank you, my dear, not only for the wonderful praise and congradulations, but for your understanding of how important this piece is to me. Your words are truly humbling and deeply appreciated.
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I remember the day you placed her picture on your author page. In an effort of support for you some of us did the same.
I remember when you let a few of us know she was found...
I remember
I am sorry for your continued pain. I honestly only read half of this poem because the tears came.
I remember
Much Love Always ♥
Renee
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My dearest sweet sister...please forgive me for not answering to this yesterday, but your words moved me so much that I did not know how to respond except with tears. I remember too...all the things that such wonderful souls like yourself did to help me during those dark, impossible hours, those days when I hung on hope only to die a thousand deaths once knowing her true fate. I cannot tell you how even now, how grateful I am to you and the others that were so compassionate and kind, so understanding and so empathic to my sorrow. I know Teresa would've been amazed at the out-pouring of love and concern from people who had never met her and would never hear her songs. To this day, I still do not know how to thank such generosity, such true Christian charity, but I promise you this...
I, too, will always remember...
Much love,
Your sis
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My sweet little sister. I will always be united with you in friendship and spirit. I hoped that this poem would ring a winner because you and Teresa are just that, WINNERS! Your dear cousin won my heart in hope. I so hoped that she was all right. Upon discovering that she had not been spared, I mourned for her, you, and your entire family. Her spirit remains in my heart of hearts. I embrace your love for her, and your tributes, although they are hard for me to read because I can feel the pain of loss in your words.
I pray that you are finding peace these days. I still ask the God of ALL to comfort you. May the goodness and joy that you both shared light your soul, always.
I love YOU ♥
Renee
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...and I love you...
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the funny thing is that people die everyday- people we love and care about or are aquainted with or have never even heard of -die everyday-
but then there are those who pour out on our pages- those who make us poets write and write and write and when we think we've written it all- more tumbles and falls to the page like icicle tears in those first weeks after the death- those moments alone in the shower when the walls of the shower are not strong enough to hold us up-
and so we write it again and better and longer and stronger- and we tell them because if we don't we can not escape this moment intact-
she is dear to me because you have written her so lovingly and painfully and she lives in all of us because we read you.
lovely- this- of course
m
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Mary...your comment should be proclaimed poetry in and of itself. I can't tell you how much you've touched and touched on the very things that I and others battle whenever someone who owns a part of us leaves. I just don't know how to express how deeply your care of Teresa and her loss to me has clutched and pinched, and how grateful I am that you are so kind and understanding of my loss. I just wish everyone could've had the chance to meet her and read her poetry...to know the essence that haunts me to this day.
So although I know the words 'thank you' are woefully inadaquate, I say them now, and never has it held so much feeling.
Thank you...
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i write my brother- you write your cousin- and somehow they live-
i can't imagine a world where i lose track of either-
m -
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As you hold Teresa, I will hold your brother in my heart and in my prayers...
Love to both you and him.
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this is heartbreaking......left me all goosebumped and teary eyed.
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Thank you, my dear. I got teary eyed just reading your comment. lol Your words are deeply touching and appreciated.
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man....
i shoulda never attempted to write for her.....this was true masterpiece
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this is really good, very well done....
al -
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Thank you, Al...not only for this, but because you've always been beyond generous and gracious when viewing my works. It is always such a pleasure to see your comments.
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The connection between yourself and Teresa is so strong that is reminds me of a living presence...the connection itself is alive. You always have a gift with the small details that creates such an image for those who both know you and don't know you. Plus the emotion is strong, full and present with all of its truthfulness.
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Thank you, Zayra. As you're familiar with why I write this, I am deeply appreciative of your comment and sweet charity. It is touching that you understand so well how much she means to me.
Again, thank you.
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I am completely ignorant of the history behind this. But this definitely struck a nerve in me not only because I've lost quite a few loved ones but the words "I'm sorry" in the first three paragraphs are simply the words that cuts deep and the very same phrase that I want to tell them. This is just raw and painful Ms. Darcy. Hugs, R
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My deepest gratitude to you for your touching comment...and also thank you for understanding what this piece was really about. Like you, I think that is the most painful part of losing someone this close to you. That there is never enough sorry's and regrets that you could've done better.
Once more, I thank you...
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Somehow I managed not to read Teresa's poems from your author page until just before I read this. The pain behind her words really speaks personally to me. I can really relate to your ping-pong and Chinese checkers, too. Ugh, what a horrible feeling that is, and there is no way to get away from it.
To say it was a powerful experience to read first her experience, then yours immediately afterward--all the while identifying personally with both perspectives.... Well, that would be a huge understatement.
The "I hate you" lines in this piece just slam-dunked my guts. What a mess you must have been while writing them.
You are right about time healing wounds. All you can do is learn to live with it (or not).
Please don't go swimming, Darcy.
Best,
Morgan
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Oh, Morgan...I think you would've loved her. She reminds me so much of you sometimes, especially in light of your columns and your works. She, too, was brilliant and troubled, facing life like only a priviledged few blessed with too much talent, yet still so disadvantaged when it came to reality. You both have a haunting quality that lingers, and will be immortalized even more so by death. I think that is why I was so messed up, because I don't think she meant to die...she was just so good at everything else, that even in this, she could not fail.
Thank you...simply because you remind me so much of her.
And I promise you, I won't go swimming, although sometimes I can't help but resist dipping a toe or two.
Blessed Be.
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memories
guilt
sorrow
anger
Grief is a many-faceted thing. You've caught the gamut here. Even a glint of humour, the old folks' home. I'm very moved by this piece.
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Ahhh, Miz Zara...thank you. Yeah, we always joked that no one would ever want us because we were so nutty and that the only person we'd end up with in the old folk's home was each other...lol.
Yes. I hate her for that.
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Intensely personal work. Not knowing the story behind it I can only comment on what I drew from it.
You've made it approachable by the use of language.
The form is perfect.
I felt something emotional even though I'm in ignorance of the facts.
Powerful words
very effective
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Thank you, m'dear...I am glad that even though you do not know the grit in this story, the emotions are still apparent. I wish I could explain what she meant to me and what she still does, and the only way I can express it is through this medium...a medium that she introduced me to and whom I am forever grateful for. If you ever wish to know what she was, you can always view my page as it contains some of her last works. Works that still stab and tear.
Again, thank you for understanding the melody, if not the words, of this dirge.
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my god this is powerful--
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This poem is so powerfully emotive. It isn’t just a poem but a true look into the pain and anger you have been dealing with since losing her. Its bullshit that time heals all wounds. With time we find ways to go on, but never fully heal. How can we when part of us is gone?
As an only child, I was close to my cousins like siblings. You made me think of the things we do as children and adults, and how we usually never apologize for them until we are made to think twice about our actions and unfortunately it is often times too late. That being said, when someone dies, or we lose them for whatever reason, we often feel sorry for things we did or said that we probably shouldn’t have. They would not have loved us any less for them.
When my grandpa died I felt guilty for a lot of things, still do. Mainly because I wasn’t there like I should have been. He scared me in his final days and I was a chickenshit. Funny how, as a nurse, I deal with diseases on a daily basis but it is so different when it is home.
And I have rambled on. You have used poetic devices brilliantly to display the powerfully consuming emotions here. Loved it as always.
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I don't know you, but I just wanted you to know that I cringed when you called yourself "chickenshit" under those circumstances. Death is not light subject matter. We all do the best we know how, given what we've got.
Further, I propose that the word "should" be stricken from the English language. ("Supposed to" has to go, too.) I hope you don't really judge yourself like that.
~Morgan -
TINA!!
God, I always love your comments. You always seem to totally 'get' me, and this time is no different. You're right. Time heals all wounds was by far the greatest bullshit line ever created. I guess if you weren't that close to the person, it might hold some truth, but when that person was a part of you and IS still a part, it never...ever...gets better. I found that out when I wrote this that night. I cried like a baby when I was done and rignt now it's still hurting. But I'll tell you why it hurts so much still. It's because there were so many incidents that I will never ever be able to relate to someone because only her and I shared those moments. It's like you know this fabulous inside joke that no one else will ever understand and there is no other person's laughter echoing yours. And I hate that. Even more than anything else. Because I am the last guardian of such mirth and memories.
I'm sorry to get all emotional here, lol. But your comment says it all...and I thank you so much. You do have a soul that shines...much like hers.
Love you.
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You know... I loved this because it's so honest and in-your-face, and it doesn't get wrapped up with metaphor and all those purdy words you normally use. Don't get me wrong. You have purdy words regardless, but it's just presented in such a way that I can really SEE you have this conversation with Teresa. I know she would love it. You've touched on so many personal things, the reference to her purple hair, singing alto (my favorite by the way), and peach holly ranchers. She'd be proud to read this one.
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Sniff...I had so wanted to call you last night and reminence about her and the past. I just remember sitting in your apartment and the two of you going 'yeah know' and 'totally' back and forth and you weren't even SAYING anything coherent!! LOL Yeah...I think she'd like this one too...
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I've seen your name here and there around the site. I decided to click this time. Your style is amazing. The personal issue is hard to touch. We all hurt so much when we lose the ones we love; and sorry does not begin to help. The piece as it is is very well written. I like the form, style, etc. Best wishes with the haunting memories and with the contest...Trina
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Thank you, Trina, for your wonderful comment. I truly appreciate your praise and your empathy. Yes, it is hard, harder than anything else one will ever write...but I feel that if it can be done, it might just be the most beautiful thing one will ever produce.
Once more, thank you for your good wishes and very sweet comment.
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It hurts so deep in the pits and cracks that no one sees.. I feel so hard and soft for you in this.. God loving people sucks so bad sometimes eh baby girl?
You carried me on your waves.. I loved every minute of it..
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You know, when I was almost finished writting this, I thought about you...how I was going to IM you and say, hey, you need to enter this contest too. Because I thought of you and your wonderful Lisa, and I thought, well, perhaps she'd want to have a nice chat and see how you were doing. I still hope you do. I still hope you talk to her like I do with Teresa. I just hope you don't cry as much...lol.
Anyhoo, I love you, Kitty Cat...because you, too, know HOW to love and will do it, even despite the cracks...
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there are indeed no words, times or places to replace the love, the joy and the heartache and pain that you have tenderly spread before your audience here...
and I have no words to describe what this has made me feel
elaine
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And no words are enough to express my humblest thanks to your understanding and very touching comment, my dear. As always you can make me smile even when all I want to do is shed a tear.
Thank you for being you...
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i knew this was going to be a tearjerker even before i started to read...
your open heart and honesty here is so raw and beautiful... and you Darcy, I'm sure she hears you too.. when you're chunnering away to the ether... she hears you...
a wonderfully touching write...
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You're perhaps the only person on this site aside from Anasuya that understands how hard this piece was for me to write. And you were also perhaps the only person that I would've wanted to read this.
I love you, Gilly...I really do.
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