God knows.
Perhaps His sullied redemptive mess occurs here,
I cannot tell.
Here, amongst the manicured tea tables of Surrey,
Can redemption exist alongside the dour curtains
Drawn across the draughty window?
I feel a cold unlikeliness, but ignore it.
Perhaps life just hangs, in semi-darkness,
Twitching in air,
Almost-ravelled
Like wool on outstretched hands.
Mother,
Do not die.
Stay here, chair-bound, perpetually waiting for guests.
In this unopened room of clinging grey air,
Take breath if you can.
But don't refuse in the politeness of English leaving.
The offensiveness is not of your making.
(There will be no talk,
No muttering as backs are turned against the cold outside)
Our gazes, in need of patient escape, travel out for air.
Through the patio doors, the lake in the distance looks fogged,
Joggers shortening their lives with each stride,
Ducks eager for bread, again.
Inside,
The years roll through our minds, as we touch.
The frailest of hand-like bones,
In imagined grip of leaving,
Seem to sigh.
The trays have been taken away,
There is no tea for grieving.
But the kettle is on.
Mother,
Do not cry.
Author notes
Animarising 2
A contest entry
- Give Me Everything! by Uncle Haku.
1400 points, ended March 10, 53 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Best prewrite between december 07 and february 08! by danceswsquirrels.
1910 points, ended April 1, 39 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
1 - 17 of 17
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3
NUMBER IS FOR ME, NOT A PLACEMENT. -
This pulls at the heart strings, Maybe I have visited to many retirement homes in my years. I don't really know, but this speaks volumes of what I've seen.
All the best,
~T.S~
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This is an interesting piece. While I haven't experienced anything like in this poem, your words communicate your feelings exactly. What's more, they do so in a beautiful way.
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You write thus ...
because you are a true writer.
Sigh.
Myra
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Halfway through this piece, I started crying. I don't know whether it was the sentiment I found within your words or simply the words themselves, which built a web for me to get caught in. Again, beautiful. A breath of fresh air compared to some of the poets on AP. Great work.
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There is potency in every line here. You mix the jagged edge of the central theme with the cold comfort images of elderly Englishness; together, they weave a magical work that moves deeply. A magnificent display of poetic talent.
Emerald-Dog (formerly Kezzworld)
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brilliant
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How one feels on leaving this loved one - so well portrayed through these words - sentiments expressed is such an understandable way - life goes on outside, yet inside something is ending, or soon to end, and one does not want to leave knowing that that will soon happen.
. Rewarded 6
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Such a sad heartfelt write, I can relate, the short stanza
Mother,
Do not die. hit like a ton of bricks
Bravo
Lisa
. Rewarded 4
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this was a very strong write great ending the line:"There is no tea for grieving." stays with me thanks for sharing TEA with us regards zaj
. Rewarded 4
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wow. this is so powerful. i can reate to this poem on a very personal level. I really love the way you tell the reader what is going on. You don't come right out and say what is going on. It is through descriptions and subtle phrases that the truth is laid out. and for me the way you focused on something so simple as the tea, was especially powerful. I can feel this poor child's mind to hold on to something, anything so that they don't have to think about the tragedy before them. Those last three lines especially bring tears to my eyes. wonderfully written
. Rewarded 8
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Wow this is so beautiful. You penned a marvelous poem. There is not anything I didn`t like about this piece.
. Rewarded 4
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Oh blessed saints and angels, thank you, what a beautiful poem!
These first two verses just usher one in, like mother inviting to tea, or brekkie:
"God knows.
Perhaps His sullied redemptive mess occurs here..."
I am drawn to the feeling. How would one describe this? Pathos? I need to read it again. But that's the charm of this sad beauty.
. Rewarded 6
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Thank you so much
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Surely the moments you describe are the most painful, yet the suspended animation so awkward, difficult to deal with, to know what to feel or how to feel it in front of others. A wonderful emotional piece, strongly written.
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Powerful
You express the imminent arrival of parting and grief without being sweetly sentimental or moaning. "The years roll through our minds as we touch" is a great image of sharing memories. Thank you for this emotional snapshot.
. Rewarded 4
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Damn!
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