"How can the dead be truly dead when they still live in the souls of those who are left behind?"
—Carson McCullers, The Heart Is a Lonely Hunter
Which moron invented the term joy-riding
tell me... where is the pleasure?
An innocent cyclist
mown down by a stolen car
my only son ...
left dying in the gutter -
he didn’t stand a chance
Six months later...
I sit in silence in the juvenile court
to observe four mealy mouthed little toe rags
with sneering sniveling faces
No one will admit to being the driver
They stand in a line
in front of the judge
He orders they are sent to
a young offenders institution
They will be out after a short time...
Yet my precious child has a life sentence ...
in a cedar casket on my mantelpiece
My life will never be the same
but I take small comfort
knowing that my son
carried a donor card
life support turned off
organs to be harvested
in death he gives life
FICTION POEM
Writing Challenge 2, July 2019 Melancholy- Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Broken Wings
7/21/19
Categories:
carson mccullers, child, death, heartbroken, sad,
Form: Free verse
...for Carson McCullers
Terse language
scored to the bone
with no leftovers;
pouring sorrow into
every crucial word
without a shred of platitude.
She faced her ghosts
with grace and fortitude,
placing hope and loss
in perfect symmetry,
embracing solitude.
Straight to the heart
she spoke the truth,
with no equivocation
or careless gesture.
Categories:
carson mccullers, writing,
Form: Verse
Terse language scored to the bone
with naught leftover,
truth suffusing every word
without a shred of platitude.
She faced her challenges with fortitude,
hope and loss a perfect blending,
straight to the heart she spoke her mind,
no careless gesture or equivocation.
Last Modified: October 06, 2015 at 04:45 pm
© bickerstaffe - all rights reserved
Author Notes
...for Carson McCullers, author of 'The Heart Is A Lonely Hunter.'
Categories:
carson mccullers, writing,
Form: Verse
...for Carson McCullers
Terse language scored to the bone
with naught leftover,
truth suffusing every word
without a shred of platitude.
She faced her ghosts with fortitude,
hope and loss a perfect blending.
Straight to the point she spoke her mind,
no careless gesture or equivocation.
Categories:
carson mccullers, on writing and words,
Form: Quatrain
...for Carson McCullers
Terse language
scored to the bone
with no leftovers;
pouring sorrow into
every crucial word
without a shred of platitude.
She faced her ghosts
with grace and fortitude,
placing hope and loss
in perfect symmetry,
embracing solitude.
Straight to the heart
she spoke the truth,
with no equivocation
or careless gesture.
Categories:
carson mccullers, dedication
Form: Verse
...for Carson McCullers
Terse language
scored to the bone
with no leftovers;
pouring sorrow into
every crucial word
without a shred of platitude.
She faced her ghosts
with grace and fortitude,
placing hope and loss
in perfect symmetry,
embracing solitude.
Straight to the heart
she spoke the truth,
with no equivocation
or careless gesture.
Categories:
carson mccullers, dedication
Form: Verse
...for Carson McCullers
Terse language
scored to the bone
with no leftovers;
pouring sorrow into
every crucial word
without a shred of platitude.
She faced her ghosts
with grace and fortitude,
placing hope and loss
in perfect symmetry,
embracing solitude.
Straight to the heart
she spoke the truth,
with no equivocation
or careless gesture.
Categories:
carson mccullers, art, on writing and
Form: Free verse