Thursday, October 8, 2015

National Poetry Day

This post is possibly not for the faint-hearted.  

Here we are, National Poetry Day, and I had a few ideas about maybe posting some of my favourite poems on my Facebook page throughout the day.  When I started to look them out, though, it's not where my thoughts took me after all.  Instead, I found myself browsing my current "Writing" folder on my PC.  I don't write poems often and I have been posting them here from time to time over the last 12 months.  There are three, though, that are good enough - not good per se, not my best by any means, just good enough - that I didn't post when they were new because I wasn't sure whether people would want to read them knowing it was how I felt at the time.  To some extent they chart my progress through grief and the first two, at least, belong very much in earlier times.   So maybe it's time for them to be aired.

I don't have a jolly poem to end with but that's because I haven't written one.  Jolly things have returned to my life, as you will have noticed if you've been reading this blog over the past months.





nothing is enough
any more
with no more
you

I sit here
and carry on, though,
doing things
that are enough
in themselves
for themselves
just not enough
for me

one day
there will be things
that are enough
again
I know that

the knowing means
I can survive
this time when
nothing is enough






nearly done now,
a sunset photo
representing where I am
in time and emotionally

in three interminably
long weeks
not dodging any bullets
but facing it all

cramming in the essence
of 10 summers
beautiful places
wonderful friends

immersing myself
in the place and the life
so I can leave it

now it will be something
left behind and ended
no longer to be feared or dreaded
no longer like
a kick in the guts









Specialism

So often I’ve talked of my specialism
in husbands:

Mikes, born late summer 1942.
Red beards, ex-teachers because of stress
Divorced, two children:
an older daughter with red hair,
a dark-haired son born in ‘77.

And now another thing they share:
Died, leaving me behind.












3 comments:

  1. I had no idea that both Mikes were *that* similar!

    These are wonderful. I'm living the first one still.

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  2. Yes, I thought of you when I posted them.

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    Replies
    1. Beautiful, poignant, and very close to my heart: thank you for putting some of my feelings into words. It helps. My "Dear Heather" told me about them.....bless her.....
      Alex

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