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Elegy Pain Poems | Elegy Poems About Pain

These Elegy Pain poems are examples of Elegy poems about Pain. These are the best examples of Elegy Pain poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Elegy | |

I Need Your Help Daddy

I’m tired
I’m Physically and Emotionally tired
I don’t want to be the strong one anymore
I can’t this time
I don’t know what to do Daddy
I need your help down here

I can’t get back in control of my emotions 
I’m having a hard time dealing with your absence
I’m having a hard time standing by myself
I need your help Daddy

I’m broken and lost without you Daddy
I need your will to want to carry on
I need your strength to over come this
I need your strength to stay standing
Your courage to fight back again
I need your help 

Please Daddy I’m at a loss
How am I suppose to do this
I need your guidance 
I need you to guide me back
To whom I was before
I need your help Daddy
I need your help






Copyright © Sabrina Niday Hansel | Year Posted 2013

Details | Elegy | |

Running

I've trained for this. 
Lungs burning, muscles twitching
as I close in
on the line-
24,25,26.
I see them clearly now-
My wife, my child-
smiling, cheering
as they urge me
through the echoes
of feet smacking
pavement,
through my 
tunneled view of
the victory line,
through my exhaustion,
through my pain.

I've trained for this.
Lungs burning, muscles twitching
as I close in on my targets.
Thousands! There are many!
I can see them clearly now-
a woman, a child-
smiling, cheering
as I slip past
and drop my bags.
And now I am
running
through the 
smoke and through the
screams as runners push
toward the finish line
without legs.

I've trained for this.
Lungs burning, muscles twitching
as I close in
on the scene.
175, 176...
I see them clearly now-
the woman, the child-
lifeless, bleeding
as they urge me
through echoes 
of feet smacking
pavement,
through my
tunneled view of 
torment and death and
I can do nothing but
hold their hand.

Copyright © Rachel Kovacs | Year Posted 2013

Details | Elegy | |

Eyes Never Dry

Her eyes were never dry
Since she was born she would always cry…
No matter what kind of lie I would tell
She would see right through me , a smile she didn't sell…
I don’t blame her when her lips fell…
She knew the world was aware of our pain…
She knew nobody cared about evils reign
She knew nobody cared about every body that laid lifeless on the city streets…
She knew…
So I understand…
In her still so young heart
Knowledge of the world there was that no man had…
Even though she knew it could get her killed she just couldn't stand 
When justice wasn't served 
When her mothers killers were free
And we get something no human deserves…
So I ask her please smile… 
The pain will last just for a little while…

Copyright © Zeki Majed | Year Posted 2013

Details | Elegy | |

Our Father

This is where my grief met Jeremiah's lamentations

OUR FATHER
As far as the east is from the west, that’s how far the Lord has removed our transgressions from us?
Why do I feel not far removed from my sins or the sins of others?
Suffocated by faults and indiscretions of human-ness that lacks discretion
Of fearlessness; the lack of intuition
Of childishness but a child born in the wrong time?
But God’s timing is always right?
Can you see this Lord?
Is heaven mastering this disaster only for our inferior minds to finally resurrect from the shambles?
And realise that You have been building us a new city all along.
I believe in the Author of fate so maybe that is where my hope springs from
Or from the crippling fear of the effects of reality
Disappointment
Shock
Is this how feeble we are as humans?
How our chromosomes, blood cells, alleles all created from dust can just wither away when one gust of wind comes before we can find shelter
How our intangible thoughts are invisible holograms that effect nothing 
Our father who art in heaven should we lose faith while we are on earth because there is plenty in heaven?
Will we make it the pearly gates with our infirm humanly wrongs and all the cavities punctured in our teeth
And speak to the guardians in low tones of how we praised the Creator on earth forgetting to mention how our own faults in the sweetened land He placed us in; have led us to corroded incisors
We consume more sweetened sin than soured heaven.
I cannot stare at my reflection in the mirror because I feel like a ghost
And legend has it that once the undead return they leave no shadow
They simply exist among other human humans
Who put status updates on their whatsapps saying ‘be still and know that I am God?’
It is easy to be transfixed in the same position when the walls around you are not caving in
I feel I have been saying much without saying anything,
Because maybe this conversation should just be between me and Him
But I do not know what to say to Him
My human human-ness has failed me once again
So maybe He could just look into my laden heart, desperate thoughts and fearful mind
And decide where I can go from here
Where they can go from here
Where we can go from here...
For Thine is the kingdom, the power and the glory forever and ever
Amen.



Copyright © Danai Daisy | Year Posted 2014

Details | Elegy | |

My Name is Cancer

“My Name is Cancer”

My name is cancer; I have no regard for life.
I break hearts and tear apart families.
I appear out of the blue and strangely.
I do not see race, or age, or beauty in people, for I’m a disease, and blind to the good hearts I take.
The more people I take from this earth, the more I‘m feared.
I’m inside everyone: every mother, father, sister, and son.
To know me, is to know death,
To feel me, is to fell anguish.
To see me is like seeing then sun, then falling away into darkness where there is no more light, 
where there is only pain.
Where there is only a feeling of hell that you do not understand and cannot explain.
I make friends cry, I make families feel hopeless.
Is it fair for me to make the vibrant wither?
Is it fair for me to take the old before their time?
Is it fair of me to strike fear into the hearts of families?
Is it fair for me to take the life of an inanest child?
I’m just but a disease that knows no bounds.
Hopefully you never have the misfortune 
of hearing my name.           

Copyright © Joseph Staup | Year Posted 2016

Details | Elegy | |

Raindrops and Teardrops

Copyright © David Whalen O Haolin in ancient Celtic | Year Posted 2013

Details | Elegy | |

I Dream in Tornado

I dream in tornado,
          gray spinning 
               blade of pulsing
                       mother 
                                fn 
                                pain

Copyright © Anthony Slausen | Year Posted 2015

Details | Elegy | |

A Soldier's Elegy

A kestrel dips into an updraft
thinking he knows the world
tranquility gurgles 
through silent valleys
over mountains
around the earth
refracted 
through the wind

The creature soars ever higher
in great swoops and dives
the horizon curves as it eludes vision
the stars pulse their siren
but thrill denies
adrenaline overrules
their ambient warning

Gust to gust each fades 
quicker than the last
whispers carry the weight of wings
and their soulful song breaches sanity
prayers of rightful good
where petty purple banners
crest twinkling hearts

The last thermal ridden
last lyric dies
as flight’s drone fades
upturned wings alone
the sky empty oblivion
as the sun aligns its beady eye
to the looping path of the bird

Two brittle forms 
grapple in light
which blots out the senses
and protects 
what can never be touched
divine oblivion 
smites the naive bird
an archangel buried
in a crypt 
six feet deep.

Copyright © Avery Swarthout | Year Posted 2015

Details | Elegy | |

The Bullied Heart

A 60 second embrace, held too long
A kiss on the forehead, felt so wrong
Add more bullets to my long list of regrets
You are one of a kind, I’ve thrown all my bets

Not too shabby for a drunk
A carnal request I wished I should not have dunked
The refusal was clear
My humiliation, felt worse than fear

Now I stir myself with sadness
Hoping this is just a mental illness
Feeling pathetic must have been the new cancer
Funny how chemotherapy can’t find a cure

My brain needs an overhaul
Looked away from the man who stole
Stealing my heart is a clichéd understatement
Losing my self is appropriately my new predicament

So I have to ponder
While Crouching in my white tee on a corner
Why do I worry of things I can’t change?
Don’t you think it’s the only thing that’s STRANGE?

Fell for a schmuck with a crowning smile
My poor choices, his firm denial
Cupid must have missed his arrow
Or was it destiny who’s missed a sparrow?


Time blurs images of the past
Past leaves traces that shadows can’t cast
After this I have to close my eyes
Waiting for the next wolf to worship my dice

A game of catch, I’ve reached for air
The wrong signs lead me to nowhere
Let me say you are so good to savor
But damn, breaking you now makes me better.

Copyright © Yvette Dignos | Year Posted 2015

Details | Elegy | |

I expect her to know

I don’t want to write about my mom,
She suffered in pain before she died,

But she always said she smiled when I did
Until the pain came and took her away.

She loved me, though never said such things
I loved her sometimes, I expected  her to know,

On the evening,  the night she died
Someone advised I should place my hand on her head

And tell, I love you mom,
I was not sure if she will hear or know.

Still I placed my hand and said, I love you mom,
There was pain in her eyes, she said nothing.

I traveled in the same hearse;
Expecting no one to see,  I place my hand one more time, 

And said, I love you mom -
She showed no pain or regret, nor she gave away her smile,

I even tried smiling that she may,
I waited the long dismal journey. 

I don’t want to write about my mom,
I expect her to know.

Copyright © Saranyan BV | Year Posted 2014

Details | Elegy | |

Lady Gray

You are in between
A little move and you are unclean
Pitching water without killing the fire
Confusion and delusion, Retire.

You are in between
Like a dying rain on a bright sunshine
So sublime, you’re always crossing the line
A character a novel will never have
A life repeatedly judged, it doesn’t budge.

You are in between
A head-turning beauty, always seen.
A soul with pure intentions, 
Reciprocated with vile pretensions

Somewhere in between
A shadow of a lady and	its miniature
Wide eyed ignorant, begging for an answer
Unlock a door and let her in
Or tear her apart, rip her skin

The love she chose, the life she has given
Elements of sacrifice, the price she’s paying
Take her on either side
Divide. 
Don’t be an in between. 
Collide.

Copyright © Yvette Dignos | Year Posted 2015

Details | Elegy | |

To My Last Love, Hear My Echoing Pain

Into the urban city I walk half empty
Emotions consumed by social fetish and the norm
Our fingers locked while you make me understand the world
Now it’s all on me, why’d you set yourself free?

Our imperfections criticized
Without menace we ignited a perfect dysfunction in their heads
But now it’s all dead
Tell me, did you wake up in a different dimension instead?

Nights have mourned the mornings
My weekends became stormed
I created this image of infinity
Without you, I’m only a stardust atom in discreet soliloquy

Everyone defines their first love, no one ever forgets.
But could there be euphemism for my last love that I don’t regret? 
To my last love, I’m paralyzed.
Living an infinite grief, can I wake you in your sleep?

The questions ignite the pain.
My pain aches for answers for why can’t you remain.
The rest of my life is now only a sublime recall.
I promise this will be my last install.
But please, to my clueless last love
Why’d you shoved us in a pitfall?

Copyright © Yvette Dignos | Year Posted 2016

Details | Elegy | |

Obsession killed a man

	                Obsession is proud to infer how dreadful love is,
			How love possessed may dangerous be,
			How awkward it is to love who doesn’t love thee,
			How awkward the feeling is of the loveless rose.

			Though it has courage, to invade a man’s heart,
			And courage, to sprout as but man is denied.
			It draws closest those whom the man has tried;
			It draws closest the feeling of love to be a man’s part.
 
			There was a cry that obsession killed a man,
			Who had too much love, or too much fears:
			O what love was this that packed his eyes with tears?
			O what love was this that denied him of his plan?

			But if he had let his heart lose his love yesterday,
			His life could still be flowing like a lake –
			He should’ve, for there was so much at stake
			To lose than to recover or rather to die that way.

			He died –yes he died, fighting for what was never his,
			Even though he always thought it was,
			Beautiful, a lady of some sensational class,
			Yet he went ballistic he died, without a taste of her kiss.

Copyright © Choene Alley Semenya | Year Posted 2015

Details | Elegy | |

Pain mask

Pain mask
Covering your face so cloudy
I saw the rise of ashes
Flowers red and gaudy
Loss with each day that passes.

Your life one long task
Of love and play so rowdy
Passions and lust clashes
Friends ne’er a howdy
Loss with each day that passes.

Daily nursing your flask
Untimely illness not ready
All clothes burnt up in trashes
Your life’s work so steady
Loss with each day that passes.

Seeing your grimace last
A face and one so hardy
Now covered in crimson lashes
Washed on beaches so sandy
Loss with each day that passes.

Copyright © ANDREA TRAVIS | Year Posted 2015

Details | Elegy | |

Never Ever Again

I never knew I’d never see you Again… I guess fate had decreed it so Back then… We embraced, shared a kiss Shared a moment of blessed bliss Not knowing we’d Never ever see each other Again… I wonder could there be Some preordained plan for me A course my ship must sail Upon Life’s Sea So many things I know not now So many things I knew not then And sadly… how it came to end somehow That I never knew I’d never see you …again…

Copyright © David Whalen O Haolin in ancient Celtic | Year Posted 2015

Details | Elegy | |

All Gain No Loss

Hold the head from hanging low,
On your face, let a light snow. 
You fought and prayed, had a say; 
Answering, God had His way. 

We trust for the best and fain 
To take His answer as gain. 
What we mourn, eternal loss, 
Brought Him glory on the cross.

Tears may roll, groaning tends to grow; 
Faith may pale, yet upward flow, 
Your beloved's beyond the gloom,
Nestled in heaven, safe from doom.

You should not weep or sorrow. 
A pearl's gone, next a hollow, 
She shall be found, when time's set,
Ensconced in Christ, free from fret.

Brace up in the storm, brother;
Only the living bother. 
Your dear's won the precious peace 
For which we strive, dare not cease. 

In the pain, let your faith hone.
Cheer up, my friend! Grace isn't gone.

© 2015

Copyright © Celestine Ikwuamaesi | Year Posted 2016

Details | Elegy | |

Pro War Fantasy

Let's hear them yell, cheer, and shout!
 Watch them pray for it with passionate hearts

Body count reaching eight thousand, but who cares?
 Mass trauma infliction, but who cares?


You can hear their excitement from miles away.
 Endless occupation is their Christmas wish

The long contained desire for scorched earth...
 Is that what they cherish in a mother's prayer?

Fifty years in and still squealing for more
 Nothing brings them comfort, but a bloodthirsty war

Copyright © Ian Walker | Year Posted 2014

Details | Elegy | |

I fear death

I fear death, not quite death but yours, and not yours but mine
I guess I fear my death in being your survivor, but not quite
I fear grief, that it might consume me once more, but not mine
I guess it is your sorrow and despair at death that is drowning my life

I've been here before; I don't know how I survived or what inside me died
I had so many questions that she never answered; they never left, never died
So your gasping breath brings back my sorrow from that walled in stasis
I teeter on the rim of a well that reaches grief's bottom blackness, I lied

It is not your pain I fear, it's mine. I did not survive her deathbed
I never again lived. I died with her though peace I never found
I don't know if it was her death, my loss, hers, or the death cycle
But the air has stayed musty from graves while I pretended not to care

I don't know if I was there for her, or how she felt that last morning.
My memory lapses with that of the child I was then into dreams of gray
I don't know the pain of death, if it is worse to leave or know you are leaving
I don't know if she found peace or her heart broke for me or because of me.

Sorrow swells as the memories fade in, filling that well with blackness
I know that if I don't fall, it will rise up to suffocate me again
If I jump I will lose myself and never find you to say goodbye
My memory lapses, I think I jumped, did I tell her goodbye?

I fear my grief. Grief is all, nothing before or after exists.
I fear that grief will over shadow my mind and I won't be there
I fear that this sorrow will rob me of the words to say I love you
I fear despair will take my soul and this time I'll have nothing left of home.

How do I ask you to share this life with me when I don't know if I'll survive your death?
How do I ask you to live each day and don't let me run when I ran from her?
How do I ask you to believe in me and don't fear when I fear myself?
How do I ask you to comfort me when I'm too afraid to comfort you?


I never asked her to hold me again, to comfort, because she was the one dying.
What right do I have to ask the sick to comfort the healthy, the dead the living?	
And how could I, being the first spirit to die, ask the ones who speak of life still
to comfort the shell I left behind while theirs decays before my eyes? 
There are no comforts to sooth the guilt of living, but forgiveness will birth new life.


Copyright © tara jennings | Year Posted 2010

Details | Elegy | |

Unbreakable Wolf Soul Awakened

Her eyes glitter in the moonlight
Like amber, golden. Unmoving. Dry and cold
Unfeeling
They will not flinch from where they look. 
She will not hide her face.

There is no pain

Her for is a wolf. Alone in the shadows
Her body powerful 
Her will relentless 
She will not move, she us craved in stone 
Grey and solid

There is no pain

She is alone as her claws digs the soft earth
Alone, this is her home. In the dark.
Her claws are razors as they paw the dirt.

There is no pain

She parts her lips, her fangs
Glitter in the glow of the moonlight like diamonds 
She wants to fight, her heart of iron
A heart that was four times of gold

There is no pain

She does not need a pack
She is one of a kind
She does not need another
She can stand for herself 
She will survive to fight another day 

There is no pain

In the shadowsame she calls home
They wrap her like an ice blanket
She welcomes it, to hide her scars
The night will not end
And that is the way she likes it

There is no pain

There is no more pain
There is no chains
There is only shadows

There is no pain

I will not break
I will not fall
I will not fail

There is no pain

I am the beast of stone 
I am this animal of darkness 
I am the unbreakable wolf

There is no pain

Copyright © Jamesa Love | Year Posted 2016

Details | Elegy | |

FIRE ANNIHILATION

FIRE ANNIHILATION cruel cycles of hate in our wake heat intense with burning flame as fearful fire-fried mice bake what glowing embers sear souls to detonate, destroy and ruin a million charred bones now coals seething land grabbers launching death smouldering their selfish hate ablaze scorching into earths dark last breath infernal planets eternal despair baptises leaf-dead sky with flames now a sinister sad clothed last prayer Inspired and written for the victims and families of Air Malaysia MH17 & In protest of rocket launching where other innocent lives are being lost daily © Kim van Breda— 21 July 2014

Copyright © Kim van Breda | Year Posted 2014

Details | Elegy | |

1 Minute

00:01 ~ where is the kitchen, i must find it. time time time
00:10 ~ i have always admired how shiny knives are
00:12 ~ i want to dye blades with red, a lot of red
00:19 ~ ah the door, i must get out and find red
00:25 ~ i see brown, white, black walking around
00:27 ~ looks like there is red under all those colors
00:30 ~ hahahahahahaha, all for the reaping
00:36 ~ i lift my knife and head towards white
00:38 ~ i look as white is dyed red, such beauty
00:45 ~ brown, white, black, my knife likes all types of red
00:47 ~ whats this? I look with disbelieving eyes
00:49 ~ i see a place piled with dead black, white & brown 
00:50 ~ the land is dyed red with blood...greed, hatred
00:51 ~ i can hear the blood crying, it will haunt me
00:52 ~ my blade has lost its appetite and repents
00:54 ~ humanity has painted itself red so i turn my back
00:56 ~ i walk away trembling hoping never to awake again
00:58 ~ why should i reap such dirty souls, i reject them
01:00 ~ i go back to sleep and wait for that day.

My name is Grim Reaper and this is my diary as recorded on the date of xx.xx.xxx. Humanity, how far will you go to gain what you want with those cold eyes and greed neatly sewn on your hands?

Copyright © Patience Mudau | Year Posted 2016

Details | Elegy | |

Black Tea

To arise alone in a half complete bed
asymmetrically warm
half of what was once whole

A drowsy confusion
guides brown eyes to
the white letter
calmly resting in the mornings light

The beautiful present
written within the white
brings forth blurry vision
forgetting in an instant all that was to be
their future

He was already treding
his destiny that he
beckoned on himself
from early days
of tea and training

Of a frightening home
a loving brother
to a barren land
now eyes of hate

To have known
what was awaiting him
at the end of this road
and to keep walking
toward the beast
he had created

To die in the arms
of the one he’d raised
of the one he betrayed
was his fate
of that mournful day

Copyright © Kay Ham | Year Posted 2015

Details | Elegy | |

A dirge for Dimgba Igwe

The rooster dares to crow
as the reaper reaps and sows
tender souls of human life
upon this earth full of strife

Before the breaking of dawn
when void shadows lie to fawn
a righteous seed will stand a price
denying this cock from crowing thrice

The sick sickle that reaps this seed
shall live before our Sun to bleed
as spored seeds do solemnly fall
awaiting the suns righteous call

Though these words may hit and run
leaving a mangled poetry as fun
the Sun approaches vengeful and bright
bringing all our hidden works to open light

Adieu Dimgba Igwe our voiced seed
your bloods wailing call, angels shall heed

Copyright © IFEANYI AJAGU | Year Posted 2014

Details | Elegy | |

listless

Soft rain
Leaves shake
Worry fades
but sleep escapes
thoughts prowl
Dream awake
her face only
my mind quakes
close my eyes
Toss and sigh
What night
reveals
the  sun will hide

Copyright © chris vold | Year Posted 2013

Details | Elegy | |

Walking On shadows

I am so young,
For the song I sung.
I am so old,
For my jewels of gold.

A poet is a peppermint of ideas,
And a serpent of mistakes.
They release poems as poison.
And success in every session.

They show they are brilliant.
And there thoughts are very resilient.
When they lose their clarity,
They will get close to confusion.

If they sacrifice any sentence,
It means that they are on the spiky road of failure.
Every line travel’s as a bullet,
Into a poetry wallet.

Midnight misery is not a moonwalk.
But a dream of a spiritual sleep ways to a marathon run.
The talent of tears,
Can be shown when it is thirsty.

Walking on the shadows,
Is lamenting on the shade of windows.
Crying in the taros,
Is rebelling with zeros.

 The death day of stage fear,
 Turns as the birthday of success.
 Smell of hibiscus,
 Is like a day with success.

Cyclone doesn’t occur in a swimming pool.
But a heart sizzling sentence occurs rarely in BSK’s poems.

Copyright © Bhanu Siva Krishna | Year Posted 2016

Details | Elegy | |

Tears Must Fall (In honor of the Virginia Tech tragedy)

Unlock your sorrowful tears,
Let them flow Like a raging river. 

From the depths of your being
howl Like a wolfcub who has been
Abandoned by his pack.

Ask for the comfort you will
need in all the days to come.

Keep your expression of sorrow
with you as Long as you need to grieve.
It will bend of it's own 
accord when you are finished.

Allow yourself the unhindered crying
your soul will require to heal.

To make sense of things, grasp your 
spirituality as a way of sailing 
far far away from the utter
horror of it all.

Do not try to push those tears aside,
as your pain and suffering is meaningful,

Though it does not feel that way now...

Take their photo's from your wallets
and display them at will,
with awesome Love and abundant pride.
Take them out as need be
and shower them with tears and memories.

I promise you, it will validate
their very existance.

Know that the very waters of your
faith will certainly be tested.
Also know that this too shall pass.

Your pain will remain forever but
your faith will return tenfold.

Allow the Light to pass over your
darkness and believe that one day
There will be healing.

If you can find the strength within,
you must allow for access back into
Your hearts, for one day you will
feel entitled to open the gates that
have held you under seige.

         
Because grief will never Leave you
where it finds you...

Copyright © Christine Wessels | Year Posted 2007

Details | Elegy | |

That day I died

That day I died

That day I died
He tore open his chest
Removed his heart,
and pasted that of a lion
With precision, landed on me
But the world looked on
That day I died

I ran to the mosque
Allah was not there
I tiptoed to the church
Christ was not on the Cross
To the Grotto I hurried
Virgin Mary was missing
I galloped to ancestral shrine
The Living Dead were on recess
But the world looked on
That day I died


He grabbed my calabashes
and drank all the milk
While licking me crazily
With his hollowed horn
in the bushes and hills of Juba
But the world looked on
That day I died

On the ground he held me
Like a submissive goat
being converted into soup
With ferocity of a lunatic
He tore open my granary of life
Pelting off like flu the fruit 
Yet the world looked on
That day I died






Copyright © Solomon Ochwo-Oburu | Year Posted 2016

Details | Elegy | |

On hearing that Ronnie

     for Ronald Hindmarsh-Midwood 
                                         (24.O5.30 - 17.01.92)

To recall a friend 
                        is never an adieu
  he has merely stepped across the landing
     the light still beams      the door's ajar
 you can hear him pacing   humming   swinging the windows
     to let the street in                the warmth 
                                                        the wind ruffled 
                               through his half-opened shirt

Across the spare digs halfway to the Schloss
    austere in the shaded light slanting on drab curtains
   the bare table     rough-hewn        the dishevelled books
       the gaping porcelain jug and still wet basin
    the whiff of fresh-bitten soap          the close shave
   and the stiff white collar excusing the day-old striped shirt

A gentle tap       the door opens to a glass of port
                                                                 cut bread 
                 and even if you will not                  cheese


"Beware! Beware you don't become an Hasbeen!"
  he made no bones of his luck from stipends through Reading
  the wideopen eyes commisserating through the flailing sheaf
                         fallen on his ample brow 
     the hand ever brushing aside
                   that wilful unconcern in your life
     in your little worries       your mishaps
And you knew you had mattered in his life 


To recall a friend 
                        is to give body to form
    to words that bind muscle to bone   
                                                   those mutual moments


You may come back a quarter of a century later
And he is still there         a trifle stumped by your aged face
      the mutual moments flow without break 


You had driven through four sleepless nights
  your eyes peeled beyond weariness 
                   your mind bristling and in the red

"Take care! Take care", he said, "lest you burn both ends!" 

Other worlds       other duties
  keep you from bringing up his face
  keep you from keeping mementoes: 
                                        "Never excuse, never apologise!"
 yes     you might have penned a word
                                 when the stolid face swung back
 you didn't        for that would've been abrupt
       too flippant     unceremonious        requiring tact


So you turn up à l'improviste
    the mutual moments flow over coffee at the Konditorei
   the same cream curtains 
        the same goldbraided periodlike chairs
            over neatly folded ceremoniallike lace
                                   the irreal flood of filtered light 
                                                 outside 
 no more the tug and grating pull of trams to dull your words
 

Again the same attentive stare         the same empathic vigil
        for your fresh worries         for your private imbroglios
    while he foregoes a meal at the mensa

Only you hadn't known nor suspected
       the stealthy pain gnawing away at the bones
              nor did he let it be shown
 

  Only the stoic face and the pained look
              
                                  for your own blasé pain 

© T.Wignesan, July 4, 1992 [from the collection: back to background material, 1993] Published as a "Preface" to Ronald Hindmarsh's commemorative writings: Mr. Hindmarsh is not writing a book. Heidelberg: Department of English, 1993. Ronnie taught English at Heidelberg University when I first met him, during the summer semester, in 1957.

Copyright © T Wignesan | Year Posted 2012

Details | Elegy | |

A Broken Silhouette

Am I here or am I not?
Her playlist on speakers
Your reminiscing face
I disappear
So am I really here?

Am I here or am I not?
Calling out endearments
Tongue tied longing for her
My ears bleed
Is my presence what you really heed?

Am I here or am I not?
Ambidextrous 
Trying to reach her on the other side
While I pretend to sleep with you beside 
Is there more inside that you can’t hide?

Am I here or am I not?
Looking past through
Even if I crave for your love
I will no longer be invisible for you
Tell me.
Was there ever left for me that’s true?

Copyright © Yvette Dignos | Year Posted 2016

Details | Elegy | |

AT THIS WAKE, NONE KEEP VIGIL

   At This Wake, None Keep Vigil…*

Time longer than rope, chokes hearts
dangling in the reality of struggle;
refuted victories mimic life
of children without mothers; widows veil
their grief, wailing in excruciating silence.

Fragments of men, void of hope,
count their dead; communal graves
swell with daily souls of the dust.

(Indeed, these are truly the wretched of the earth.)

In the neap tide of sorrows, mourners
wade the blood left by Pilate’s children.

In the stale winds of time,
woe is me, cries the fore shaken
land; lamenting the scriptures, echoing
Freneau: They saw their country’s woe. 

Decaying bodies, stacked like sliced, molded bread,
released spores of death to praying mourners, praying:
give us this day, our daily bread…

Like a sobbing bosom void of tears, life sags on;
and the children of Sisyphus continue to struggle:
guided by the warrior ghost of hope.

In the meanwhile, the on looking world veils 
Itself with its sacred sealed silence:
At this wake, none keep vigil…
None. 


*A line from the poem, “Recession”, by Wole Soyinke

Copyright © millard lowe | Year Posted 2015