Posts tagged ‘pantoum’

So much of what I knew

You were so much of what I knew as life,
you went and never I had felt such pain,
no part of this great love remained with me.
I lived alone and loss had shown us how.

You went and never I had felt such pain,
when others said it had been for the best
I lived alone. And loss had shown us how
you found your rest. I can not sleep at nights.

When others said it had been for the best
as they would never understand just how
you found your rest. I can not sleep at nights,
I miss your hand, your eyes, your love.

As they would never understand just how
our bodies yearn for those they can not see.
I miss your hand, your eyes, your love.
My nights are darker than a grave could be.

These men have been here for ever – pantoum

These men have been here for ever in town,
they must be over a hundred or more
in number, and they know all of us well.
Slowly they walk through our streets in the night.

They must be over a hundred or more
as they were here when our grandfathers lived,
knowing them all and their parents as well.
They talk about wars no one remembers.

As they were here when our grandfathers lived,
how come they don’t die like everyone else?
They were in wars no one remembers now.
In dark clothes they stride and peek through curtains.

How come they don’t die like everyone else?
These men have been here for ever in town!

😉

I tried to do a pantoum here, the photo I made in Whitby in pub 🙂 The dog just fell asleep on the bar.

between forgiveness and your spite

Not to  see the sadness in your eyes,

I’m trapped between  forgiveness and your spite

I see the way your shoulders shut me out,

a battle in a war of hidden lies

.

I’m trapped between  forgiveness and your spite

and you don’t seem to see me where I stand.

A battle in a war of hidden lies.

Let’s talk again to end this cruel fight

.

And you don’t seem to see me where I stand.

I’m trapped between forgiveness and your spite,

let’s talk again and end this cruel fight.

It would be wonderful to hear you laugh again.

.

I‘m trapped between  forgiveness and your spite.

I’m nowhere,  now you are not to be found

It would be wonderful to hear you laugh again,

it would be my relief  to know you’ll  turn around

.

I’m nowhere now, you are not to be found.

I see the way your shoulders shut me out.

It would be my relief to know you’ll turn around

not  to see the sadness in your eyes

My view is a corridor of shuffling feet

~{}~

Now there is no more mind in me

My view is  a corridor of shuffling feet

Even my name has gone from me

Where  days go by in  painful beat

 .

My view is a corridor of shuffling feet

So much I do know : I am here

Where days go by in painful  beat

This is beginning or my end is near

 .

So much I do know:  I am here

Maybe someone will come to see me

This is beginning or my end is near

I do not think that they would leave me

 .

Maybe someone will come to see me

Do I have family that you know?

I do not think that they would leave me

Maybe tomorrow home I’ll go

 .

Do I have family that you know?

There probably was a misunderstanding

Maybe tomorrow home I’ll go

I will just wait for them here on the landing

 .

 There probably was a misunderstanding

Even my name has gone from me

I will just wait  for them here on the landing

Now there is no more mind in me

~{}~

 My mother spent the last years of her life in  a home.

I don’t know  what she and the other people there thought as they forgot the words to speak

but I think it must have been something like this.

A mockery of life

~{}~

Death is a mockery of life

They who have lived it through, are dead

So what about death can be said

 It lingers in the living room after the funeral

 

They who have lived it through are dead

We do not speak of death too much

It lingers in the living room after the funeral

We try not to think about the lonely grave

 

We do not speak of death too much

It is always raining in the grave yard

We try not to think about the lonely grave

Where no one seems to be, but only was

 

It is always raining in the grave yard

Some flowers grow between the tombstones

As nature doesn’t care about it, live or death

Just carry on as usual

 

Some flowers grow between the tombstones

So what about death can be said

Just carry on as usual

Death is a mockery of life

 ~{}~

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