My cat crept into my heart on little fog feet. I saw him born, but he knew long before I did that we were meant for each other. Why shouldn’t cats know in the way humans know a relationship is lasting? He did. He showed…
Tag: Death
Death Resists Metaphor
and proverb too, its walls unblemished by strikes that snuff the brightest stars. Pick one, toss it to the grieving. Study their faces for gratitude. Now picture this: You cradle your breathless child, kiss his face, surrender her to men in masks and gowns. Imagine…
Valley of Bones (Hour 11)
VALLEY OF BONES I have stood upon the mountain tops. I have rested upon the wings of soaring eagles, their feathers of silver and gold a celestial pillow. I have lain slain in the valley of bones, death more than a shadow – holding my…
Running Tears
Heavy hearts flooded in memories of your life rewinds back to how things were when you were lively and happy, enjoying the things that you love. Now, confined by a white sheeted bed, hooked up on monitors struggling to breathe as pain shock waves inside…
I Miss Our Talks
You have been gone almost six months And I find this unreal In that short time, you’ve missed so much I still struggle to heal I think of you each Sunday morning As I stop myself from calling The phone just rests there in my…
(Hour 15) 12.30pm-13.30pm. PROMPT, theme: “heart (no metaphors)”
AMI 2,775,398,465 2,775,398,466 2,775,398,467 2,775,398,468 2,775,398,469 it was on the two billion seventy hundred and seventy five million three hundred and ninety eight thousand four hundred and sixty ninth beat that the final piece of fatty material (possibly from yesterday’s cheeseburger & chips or the…
Poem 11
God spoke, but I did not hear Him, not then. Instead, I held you, propped in my arms while you slept deeply, slipping away. I watched the grey, heavy sky loom over the ocean. My heart felt heavier than the snow-laden clouds as my memories…
Ghost Story: A Nearly Found Poem
Not all haunted places are houses Memories rattle chains, mistakes pace hallways, regret wails through the night. And the ghosts, they own everything
Poem 10
My father’s last day was nothing like all the days that came before it. The ones where he held my hand, scolded me, patiently helped me through my math homework, disappeared into the cellar to whistle while he built a shelf and escaped from his…
VIII. Beyond What We Perceive
I make no apologies. I see ghosts; I have felt their breath upon me, their fingers through my hair. I have flown past The farthest stars Carried in the arms Of Angels And I know there Is no such thing as Death. So, it’s…