Sunday, October 19, 2014

Elegy




This autumn finds you
removed from anyone who knew.

Only the maple is at your mercy;
its leaves crunch around the stone
with enough respect.  

I no longer panic about the cracks.
The uncomfortable damp.
Something from the basement
is buried with secrets.

The dreams have stopped.
Your eyes stay in their sockets;
two dark-stained walnuts,
bitter and tenacious.
All the dead are pious.

It suits you.


tk/October 2014



Perfectly delivered by R.A.D. Stainforth...





27 comments:

  1. What a wonderful bitterness.. I love the image of the walnut eyes.

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  2. I especially like these two lines:
    Something from the basement
    is buried with secrets.
    Being buried is rather like being in a dark dank basement.

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  3. loved every damn word...you can almost smell it!!

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  4. There are lots of little deaths in autumn ...too many of them make you go blind !

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  5. Yikes!

    "The dreams have stopped.
    Your eyes stay in their sockets"

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  6. ...the horror...the horror

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  7. There's a powerful tension here between formal commemoration after passing and less benign resonances from life. Very finely balanced, Tess. And unsettling!

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  8. Tess - always innovative, always compelling, always thought-provoking.

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  9. And of course, Happy Birthday,Tess!

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  10. I can feel the woody nightshades pulled tightly around a resolution ....now gained....and life is new again. Lovely.

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  11. The first line just makes me stop breathing.... ~ Happy Birthday, Tess! xx

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  12. This is deliciously dark ... love it! Happy Birthday!

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  13. The last lines really stunned me. Every line was perfect. I see everyone wishing you happy birthday, so of course, hope you have a wonderful birthday.

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  14. I once had a French friend who would utter, "Superb!", in a frenchy accent, at something that struck his fancy.

    Superb ~

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  15. This has a dark and bitter feel....intense and wonderful coupled together here Tess....amazing as always! :-) Hope your day yesterday was as beautiful as you are.

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  16. "all the dead are pious" ~ perfect!

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  17. "All the dead are pious!" Indeed! Loved your poem Tess and "the eyes stay in thier sockets." Are you ready for Halloween? <3

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  18. Whew. Tess, this is outstanding … and I have a feeling is a place where a LOT of poetry could come from. I recognize this a bit as I have a place similar yet do not feel able to write about it yet. Loved it, truly loved it.

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  19. They say the acorn
    doesn't fall far from the tree
    In many ways so like thee
    but often locked horns

    Where you are timid
    I have never feared to go.
    The seed you nourished did grow
    with no imposed limits.

    sorry, don't have a magpie account. I also don't know if there is a 5a7b7b5a rhyming and rhythm scheme. And I do know the wording is awkward and twisted to meet said scheme. But this image made me think how from my mother's life, and though I perceive (whether true or not) the limitations SHE places on HERSELF, I have grown and thrived with a life that she is always cautioning me against, but could never stop me from living because I think she is amazing, strong, and capable of anything...I mean, she's my mom and can do ANYTHING;)

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  20. Another interesting mom - "bitter and tenacious_

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  21. Right. We dare not speak poorly of the dead. As if dying absolves one of sin. I like how you avoided any sappy sentimentality, always the temptation where mothers are concerned.

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  22. Ah, Autumn puts all things to rest. Well said.

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  23. All the dead are pious.
    It suits you.

    One takes demise as obliterating ills of life. One goes in a nice way. More so in this case. He seems to have been a nice person as it suited him. Great lines Tess!

    Hank

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Inject a few raisins of conversation into the tasteless dough of existence.
― O. Henry (and me)