Come join us!
Thank you Shay for another wonderful inspiring list!
Looking back, I realize, it all began in Autumn.
The goodbye that stung hard and cruel like a wasp in summer.
That is when I learned to smoke like a
man;
not pipes nor slims, but sadness.
It is a long harsh cigar, sadness.
It can leave a rasp on the throat and the heart.
Now I am certain, if my soul could sing, it would probably
sound like grackles,
loud and pestering
lacking in the
enchanting grace of doves and poppies that once filled those same lungs.
Silence has a scream that can never be quiet, and years of
that sound have a way of fraying the edges and making yellow what once was
white.
There is an empty chair inside me. It is mixed tweed and
always perfect with a scent of roses from another time. You only sit there when
I write poetry.
For regret has a way of holding on to the pain. It always
remembers, like the IRS, children, and my heart.
Carrie, Wow. This poem goes deeply into my heart. That long cigar of sadness - the heart whose song sounds like grackles. Oh, how I know. This is just wonderful and I so love reading you. I am glad you keep writing them.
ReplyDeleteSome very potent images in this, Carrie. I am especially drawn to the empty chair. It reminds me of the Van Gogh painting he did called 'Paul Gauguin's Empty Chair', a simple straight back chair with a woven seat with a lit candle and book on it showing a deep, sad remembrance. This poem has that same feel of loss and a change that has left the narrator shaped differently forever. I especially like "..Silence has a scream that can never be quiet..."
ReplyDeleteLife leaves no one unchanged and you've certainly captured that here, Carrie. Thanks for digging deep for the List, my friend.
ReplyDeleteOooh! I really love this. What a great line: “ That is when I learned to smoke like a man; not pipes nor slims, but sadness.” Wow. And your soul singing like grackles! Wonderful!
ReplyDelete"There is an empty chair inside me." What a stunning line of loss and yearning! And what a relief to read on and see how poetry heals it because it speaks of a love that never dies. Exquisitely written with imagery and words that sing through the pain.
ReplyDeleteYes, life will change us in so many ways. Poetry is my therapy and my journal. I truly feel your poem. So so beautifully written
ReplyDelete"There is an empty chair inside me. It is mixed tweed and always perfect with a scent of roses from another time. You only sit there when I write poetry."
ReplyDeleteThere is such sadness in this, Carrie.
Wow, Carrie! I think this is one of the best poems I have read of yours. Powerful, Personal. Real!
ReplyDeleteSo very true this ---
"It is a long harsh cigar, sadness.
It can leave a rasp on the throat and the heart."
These words really capture sadness in a deep and gutteral way!