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22yrs on. prolegomenon

I still remember

There were yellow
droplets on glass,
as vast oceans
drained of water.

Time slowed and stilled
I swayed to my knees
in an instant I was alone
unprotected, unprepared

Standing again,
I wandered between palms
astonished and stupefied
I wondered at a perfect sight
twinkling in my southern sky

Why did the stars not fall
how had the moon not bowed,
repeatedly sobbing, why,
but God never answered

A warm hand breached
the bubble encompassing me
the long journey home begun
quiet on cow I sat silent

---

days made of moments
scored my heart
a yawning aching wound
time can't fill, love cant cease.

Review Request (Intensity): 
Please use care (this is a sensitive subject for me, do not critique harshly)
Last few words: 
It seems I mark my time here in grief. This poem was just to purge the tearducks (for me). So that my submission tomorrow is what she deserves. The best I can do. See you again tomorrow. 24th January is her death day but this year I want to honour her memory with beauty and wonder of what was her, not just me wallowing in my sorrow again. I do miss her so very much. You'd think by now I'd have a handle on it. But not me. For Mum <3 RIP now and always.
Editing stage: 
Content level: 
Not Explicit Content

Comments

my Mom, but it isn't so hard for me to feel the pain. My father's mother [Grandma], was my world for the longest time. I was the first-born and consequently was "The One".. When she had her first heart attack, I stayed to live with her while my mother, who had separated from my father moved back to Schenectady fourteen miles away. I was twelve. I had her all to myself for about eight months, until she had another attack and then she went to live with my aunt and uncle and I moved to be with my mother. She died the next spring and I was devastated! I still think of her many times with great sadness, although it's almost sixty years ago. ~ Gee.
.

There is value to commenting and critique, tell us how you feel about our work.
This must be the place, 'cause there ain't no place like this place anywhere near this place.

Its always been hard for me to let go. I guess if I stop grieving that it finally means I have to let go. I have beautiful memories of her. But I'm holding on to my grief its all I have left

Love and higgliest of bugs J xxx

“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.” — W.B. Yeats

author comment

.

.

cheers,
Jess
A new workshop on the most important element of poetry-
'Rhythm and Meter in Poetry'
https://www.neopoet.com/workshop/rhythm-and-meter-poetry

,

.

cheers,
Jess
A new workshop on the most important element of poetry-
'Rhythm and Meter in Poetry'
https://www.neopoet.com/workshop/rhythm-and-meter-poetry

So fill me in what did I miss.
Hmmmm

Jayne

“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.” — W.B. Yeats

author comment

I've really been trying to moderate my temper but still often end up saying things I instantly regret and you can't just delete comments.

cheers,
Jess
A new workshop on the most important element of poetry-
'Rhythm and Meter in Poetry'
https://www.neopoet.com/workshop/rhythm-and-meter-poetry

Today I could not find it on the Home postings, only here in the workshop...Why?

I read the poem several times, and I like the poem, it just has the right amount of very personal and very poetic at the same time. really lovely and nice work. Who among us has been so lucky as to not have grief like this? So it will resonate for so many of us.

A few things. Quiet of cow...wasn't sure of that image.
I am just not sure about introducing God in this poem. Maybe its because "God" is such an intensely personal instinct we each carry with us, when I read "but God never answered" it threw me off.
It introduced a whole other aspect of grieving. (For me, a radical atheist, I wouldn't bother calling, you only get voice mail.) I think if that is important to you, faith has to be somewhere else in the poem to connect it to such a lovely conclusion

days made of moments
score my heart
a yawning aching wound
time can't fill, love can't cease.

Lastly, I think the title is important. Why the period after "on". Why the lower case? Prolegomenon- I had to google to confirm it just meant basically prologue. I love the word but don't really understand it in relation to this poem. I would save it for another poem!

..

Eumolpus
I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing
than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance
ee cummings

Mark and Eumolpus i

will be back later this morning to reply. Its 4.30am here and I've had a heavy last 2 days. Your commenta deserve a proper response.

Hugs Jayne x

“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.” — W.B. Yeats

author comment

at first glance I thought it was a medication you had been on for 22 years. But I always look things up and, with your 'Last few words' it makes perfect sense.

The only comparable grief I've had is six years old and not a day goes by...

I believe this prolegomenon will serve its purpose, written as it is with sensitivity and grace, and I believe you can look forward to honouring her memory with beauty and wonder.

cheers,
Jess
A new workshop on the most important element of poetry-
'Rhythm and Meter in Poetry'
https://www.neopoet.com/workshop/rhythm-and-meter-poetry

*hugs and a kiss to your forehead.

you are very well loved. Cat & eddy

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