Open Poetry #4 |
the storm |
mirjam Member
since 1999-11-24
Posts 246Auckland, New Zealand |
this is a poem i wrote about the death of my next door neighbour from cancer. I see you perched there, watching the clouds roll in, dark; looming. Ate up the sun. I see you silently watch them ripen to indigo - the inside of a bruise. Within this so full of you atmosphere wheels, circles the tumbling sky. And i know i know you can get to feeling everywhere and nowhere at one - all alone but crowded in, spilling rolling holding on. Hungry to exist. So by the time all the Ophelias Cordelias and Desdemona's had spiralled to their end and we had run out of time, life exhausted weakened beaten eaten the storm had already clawed you into itself and it was black. |
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© Copyright 1999 mirjam - All Rights Reserved | |||
Severn Member Rara Avis
since 1999-07-17
Posts 7704 |
But Shakespeare never dies and neither does the memory of close friends - you have honoured your next door neighbour hon. |
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Severn Member Rara Avis
since 1999-07-17
Posts 7704 |
Sorry, this can't go yet. |
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Dark Angel Member Patricius
since 1999-08-04
Posts 10095 |
Miriam, This is wonderful and I agree with Severn, you have honoured your next door neighbour. ------------------ What comes from the heart goes to the heart. Samuel Coleridge |
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Denise
Moderator
Member Seraphic
since 1999-08-22
Posts 22648 |
Yes, Mirjam, this is very well done. ------------------ Denise |
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