I’ve heard people tell of the moment they knew
That death would come what may, nor go away
Your dog died, mine did too, ants get squished and lamb’s for stew.
It just never seemed too much ado, nor hold much sway
Mortality does not take up residence, in the spare room,
Something’s alive, then not, so death has gone, not to the sky
Nor to the cellar, it’s just not there, not worth a scare.
Personal, yes, a car hit cat, I bashed it’s head, and knew why
To let it linger, brains and eyes not where they should be
Any otherwise would have been weak and cruel
Yet it never has applied to me, not avoiding reality
I know it’ll happen and when it does I’ll be gone
But not my problem, someone else’s sentimental song.
Just once, no twice, has it touched me deep
I held my cat as it was put to sleep and felt…
Just absence, sadness, empty furry bag of bones.
But my love, my life, who if we did not die in an autobahn crash
Some other way we were sposed to be together, equally flash
But the bastard's heart just stopped, he dropped, he flopped
The pain is real, has never ceased, is me
And still death is someone else’s problem,
Always will be.
Comments
Hi Jess
You have ventured into the subject of the "unknown" of which one fears, in a very practical manner with a powerful title and the end line which is so very true and a fact of life..
regards...
thankyou Raj,
That was supportive, concise and helpful critique.
I work well to a challenge.
If I didn't have a soul I'd be in advertising.
I will be a bit surprised if many people relate, most seem to have some moment in their life when they confront their own mortality. I never have.
The title is superb!
The summary is derived from the theme. This is a great harvest from a pure soul. You pour out the revelation of the unknown here. The poem its self is tight. It lacks nothing at all. Every literary devices needed to garnish the beauty is found within the poem.
Nice work!
thank you so much for your kind comments
I believe we have met on Facebook, is that right?
You are highly welcome
But i wouldn't know if we have met. Your user name please so i could find you as well.
Thanks!
Jess Tapper,
the same picture I use here with the smoke and long purple hair.
I have a lot of Nigerian friends on Facebook.
Hi Jess
A lot of guts went into this poem, that is clear from the start.
As far as the structure of the poem, the on and off rhyming, uneven stanza sizes, internal rhymes,
slant rhymes- I think this works. I personally prefer capping the first word of a line, and the use of punctuation. So you have used many of the tools at a poet's disposal to create a living poem (so to speak).
A few little things. In the second line I would consider "That IN death would come what may" to clarify that a bit. I would use perhaps "that bastard" rather than "that prick" as it is more endearing- on that image the rage of someone close dying on you, causing you pain, and prick for me has a strong connotation of someone being a real bad detestable kind of person.
But in the meantime, the pain of the death haunts you. It is just the reality of living. Our own death is somebody else's problem, but as we live to witness theirs it becomes our problem to deal with. I hope I'm reading this right. In the end I can't help but feeling the deep undercurrent of irony. Or as Dylan Thomas put it, in a Refusal to Mourn...
"I shall not murder
The mankind of her going down with a grave truth
Nor blaspheme down the station of the breath
With any further
Elegy of innocence and youth .
....After the first death, there is no other."
I see a little problem in the last stanza and might consider
The pain is real, has never ceased, is me (add either period, semi colon or dash)
But still death is someone else’s problem,
Always will be.
"But" as opposed to "And"- makes it less a follow of "the.... pain is me" to an "However" , switching
back to the premise of your desired detachment from the absence and sadness. I guess the irony evolves by the idea that when you die it will be "someone else’s sentimental song." It's someone else's problem.
Thanks for your very thoughtful stance.
..
You know you shit me to tears sometimes,
when you critique someone else's poem before I do and say what I would have said except you say it better.
In this case you positively nailed it. This was no off the cuff piece, do you remember when you first challenged me to write it? I've torn up several drafts and some lumps of hair trying to strike a balance between a formal sombre insouciance and grief stricken gaiety, with appropriate stylistic structure.
I nearly went sonnet.
'that bastard' is mos def better, scans better too, I've already changed it and taking all other suggestions under advisement but initial caps are a bit much for me.
Thanks so much, my friend.
No critique...
Just an admiration for the way you have expressed yourself. ~ Gee.
.
ta
mate
What I like about your poems
What I like about your poems is
that I can read them multiple times
and see something new
and that they have a strength
of your spirit coming through the words
regardless of the topic.
I like the flow of this particular one.
It is stumbling sometimes
yet in right places.
I see the empty fur of your late cat
and hear the vacuum wheezing
somewhere around your heart.
And yet you make me agree that
Death is someone else's problem.
BTW, my favorite theory is
that in infinite number of parallel verses
I am an observer of my owns,
I exist in multiple parallel versions
and many of them already took their chance to die.
But I will exist as long as the last one and thus
will be the longest living creature on Earth.
It sounds scary and weird but no less real
than any of the modern physics's ideas
and so far it holds.
thankyou, yes, we are both fans of Michio Kaku
and the wonders of theoretical physics and cosmology.
A young film-maker and skater friend of mine told me the story of his faith today. It was so sad, he could easily have been a teen suicide if he hadn't found Jesus, and he was brave to tell me, he's seen my, shall we say, outspoken comments on atheism and against the Bible on Facebook.
All I could do was quote Patti Smith at him "Jesus died for somebodies sins but not mine" but praise his name for saving you, my brother."
I just don't get it. There are so many amazingly gorgeous and mysterious realities why would anyone limit themselves to one religion?
I am more familiar with
I am more familiar with Hawkins's popular explanations. But I Googled Michio Kaku and enjoyed his talks on YouTube while scrabing kitchen floor. Most entertaining listen.
Is it
someone else's problem? We always sublimate or deny death when it seems to creep right around us under the veil of civilization.
A heroically spirited poem, but I just don't know.
neither do I, not for sure
how can anyone? Like my atheism it's not just a lack of evidence for anything else, I prefer to believe in no deity and no afterlife. It's my informed (as far as possible) world-view and the way I choose to live my life.
and "heroically spirited" I like.
ta
Jess,
I want you to know I'm not ignoring your poem. I read it the first day I was able to come back this summer, and several times since, but I am not able to comment yet. I want to give you the feedback you deserve, but I'm not emotionally at the right place right now. Please bear with me.
Kelsey
no wuzzas
though I look forward to it.
The
book "The Denial of Death" by Ernest Becker--if I remember correctly it won the Pulitzer Prize in the 70's--is the best book I've ever read on the subject. Inescapable and unforgettable stuff. He out and out rejects all the countercultural material growing in the states at that time and just goes for the jugular.
ta,
but got it covered.