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Love & Death
Posted: Fri Aug 10, 2018 7:13 pm
by Tom
Love & Death
Undoubtedly these are the two most over ploughed fields of poetic subject matter. Have at it – find your own original take. You don’t need to swallow the whole enchilada in one bite. You can leave a little for next year if you want. Or if you want, a parody might slide in here pretty well. Just saying.
Don't Believe in Love & Death
Posted: Sat Aug 11, 2018 9:14 pm
by Colm Roe
There is a difference between love and death.
But they slide sideways, swapping elements
they tease confusions, cloak their finales
in snakes of crimsons and reds.
I've noted patterns, I've written evidence
they will believe...post mortem.
It's just physics
or quantum fields.
Fluctuations.
They only exist if we believe
...don't believe.
Re: Love & Death
Posted: Tue Aug 14, 2018 11:36 am
by Dave
We have no decisions to make.
An ominous cloud emerges left of view
plods pedantically west, rain bound.
You press my hand as if to say,
as if to say, it will be all right
though we both know it's too late,
the day is conming to a decisive end.
Re: Love & Death
Posted: Tue Aug 14, 2018 12:27 pm
by Mark
The love of death
is the death of love
found in foreign fields
and lost in careless eyes.
Re: Love & Death
Posted: Tue Aug 14, 2018 2:52 pm
by Tracy Mitchell
Marvelous postings. Colm, Dave, Mark -- you guys have made this an amazing thread.
Cheers
Re: Love & Death
Posted: Tue Aug 14, 2018 9:49 pm
by Ike
Your breath derives the tides,
a cold embrace, interwoven with lace.
Now, I hope my strides are interlaced
with you.
What's to be, how I die,
I can do it on my own,
I just hope that it
isn't the case.
Re: Love & Death
Posted: Tue Aug 14, 2018 9:59 pm
by Tracy Mitchell
Love it, Ike.
Re: Love & Death
Posted: Wed Aug 15, 2018 7:08 pm
by Colm Roe
Nice one Ike.
He shouldn't have picked her berries.
Posted: Wed Aug 15, 2018 7:31 pm
by Colm Roe
They'll pick berries soon
on Bramble Lane.
In the field behind
ferns, tall grass and gorse
fight for light
and conceal the corpse of you.
Little mouths gnaw innocently,
burrow trails
through your Summer dress
and entrails.
He's nearby,
trousers around his ankles,
an ice picked unicorn
with a why face.
Why?
I would have thought that was obvious.
Re: Love & Death
Posted: Thu Aug 16, 2018 8:15 pm
by Tim J Brennan
Fragments of Chernobyl
The Ukrainian dancer told me two minutes
to hold up my fingers and she would stop
giving her love words to her husband,
he the soldier with skin cancer,
one of thousands who rushed in
to Chernobyl, to guard the peasants,
to help everyone before they died. I listened
to this overseas call, for thirty seconds,
for one minute. I heard her gathered words,
her spontaneous love over five thousand miles
away, her love expectations, her love greeting,
her love farewell, fierce but one-sided.
For the final minute, my finger rose in the air
through huskiness, a click, a tremble of upper lip,
placing the phone in its cradle like a baby,
she turned to me, bent down, and kissed
my cheek: Thank you, thank you she mumbled
in broken English, turned and left
to her broken bed, to her broken life. Nothing
more available this night. Orders had been given,
loyal soldiers were dying, and the silent traffic
of overseas calls was coming-and-going,
held in check by the taut political reality
of two different worlds and a grainy silence.