I missed seeing this chapter, so I am late. Luke and Jackson are no longer dancing, they are certain. However, that didn't stop Jackson from having a cute moment of embarrassment at the washing machine. That was especially lovely. Of course, the shower scene had to be interrupted, more's the pity. But the fears for Luke and Jackson initiated in the previous chapter are redoubled, no matter how much Grace tries to reassure Luke. If Luke has it out with Cindy, the results could be catastrophic. It would not be out of character for Cindy to send Luke away to some brainwashing camp, or closed-minded boarding school. And that would hurt both boys unforgivably. Where is Henry in all this, I wonder?
The first poem has such interesting and powerful metaphors: looking at life from distant rooms, bring handled with delicate care, and the appeal to the teacher. Each stanza teaches me, tells me something I need to consider. All together, they are enormously strong; for I often feel the need of the lesson summarized in the last lines. As for the prose poem, it sears my very being. Inescapable are its accusations and its conclusions. My guilt is plain, my sentence just. You write with devastating effect.
Unreachable
Each day I fight an itch I cannot scratch,
a neuro-bio-chemical effect,
compelling me to think, perchance reflect
on evils consequent, should I unlatch
The dark, unused, mysterious looking hatch,
that door to all the secrets I protect,
those deep desires I never did elect,
but once unloosed, I could not hope to catch.
I hardly dare to reach that twitching spot,
preferring still the torment without cease
to all the hurt and tear
First of all: hugs. Hugs multiplied, squared, and taken to the nth power.
Next, let me congratulate you on how well you paint the hurt that goes on even after one chooses, even after the words "it's over," finish echoing in the brain. And the poem Dwelling - the first line concerning awaiting detachment...that spoke to me so very deeply.
If you were detached, I doubt you could move me with your writing....
It's a new idea, but it certainly lends itself to that musical metaphor. Glad you liked that experiment. As for trees, their late winter figures invited inspection and reflection. Thanks so much.,.
I hoped someone would enjoy the visual effect of these two juxtaposed poems in Prelude and Fugue. The Maker came to mind at the sound of a table saw...so glad you saw these and let them strike a chord.
If anything can be recalled from this visit, it is the love, recollected with every quiet breath, every beep of medical machinery, every twitch of a finger. Thank you for reading and responding to these.
No, go, this us not an easy experience to distill into words. But maybe they help to ease the ache, and remind me of the love that remains. Thank you for your care and strength.
Numbers one, two and four practically had me gasping, they hit hard enough. Numbers three and nine will stay with me, for a very long time. Five, six and eight I find stirring, spurring me to do something. The emptiness in number ten echoes in my head. You have written a set for the ages, tim.
And now the Bard, beloved, sleeps
while there his handsome champion keeps
a watch in his devoted bliss;
when Bard awakes, they'll more than kiss...
Wonderful!
Pale, translucent skin
drawn across ancient cheekbones
belies a live mind.
Blue eyes, bright with tears
recall a lifetime of love,
laughter and blessing.
Warm hands, still holding,
brief, whispered words caressing,
promise forever.