Last Request

Now I lay me down to sleep.

For my bones, do not weep.

 

I do not lay here wanting grief;

In my rest I’ve found relief.

 

No more worrying over day to day affairs;

No more crying over unhappy cares.

 

In the earth I now have peace;

In the quiet all has ceased.

 

All my sorrows are washed away;

No more suffering, no more dismay.

 

Weep not, I say, for what is gone

Look to others, look to your own.

 

Care for those who continue to struggle,

Care for those who cannot juggle

 

The mind’s chess game with them as pawn.

Weep for the living, those who walk alone.

 

Turn your eyes and hands to them,

Let your love be their stem.

 

For it may be their life was spared

Because of you and those who cared

 

To see the pain behind their tears,

Who understood and calmed their fears.

 

Then come the morning and the rising sun

Come to me and say, “Thy will was done.”

 

And I will smile in my sleep

Because you did not weep.

 

*Probably a good idea to not snack too close to bedtime…you know, in case you wake up crying from a dream you can’t remember and the lines to a poem running through your head and neither will let you get back to sleep.

#NaPoWriMo The Algea

The rending of our sorrow will be heard  The Algea

We cry our raindrop tears
From sodden, marble lids
Let the wind howl our lament
Let it carry from our midst
Around the world
The rending of our sorrow
Will be heard

Our faces staid in masks
Of long-borne grief
Observe the pain of years
Ne’er destined for relief
From this sharp world
The rending of our sorrow
Must be heard

Our lonely arms
Will ne’er embrace elation
Alabaster; raised
In stony supplication
Yielding to the world
The rending of our sorrow
Shall be heard

Our bodies fixed in anguish;
Dolor carved
We cling forever,
Our misery never halved
By this cruel world
The rending of our sorrow
Needs to be heard

Our heartache on display
Eternally
Algos, Akhos, Lupa;
Grievers, we
Lament this world
The rending of our sorrow
Will e’er be heard

 

00NaPoWriMo15

Our prompt today was to write a persona poem; one a bit more serious than other, recent prompts have elicited, and so, being tired of life and in the kind of mood where sadness is hanging in the edges of the air, I wrote of statues, carved forever into their pain – a public spectacle of misery which would result in congratulation for the sculptor and endless sadness for the statues (were they sentient (not in a freaky in-yer-face, Dr Who-style way, either)).

So I researched to figure out who would like as not be turned into such a piece of artistry and upset, and the Algea appeared in my world – three Greek goddesses whose embodiment was grief, sadness, and mental and physical pain. Learn more about them here.

Dear Beans

Dark Pit Infertility

Dear Beans

I thought of you

Today, cos

Internationally

I may – for

Pregnancy and

Infant loss;

Awareness raised

With grief at

Life’s great cost.

Or is it death

Which still

Exacts its dues?

In losing you

I had no chance

To choose, but

lost again, though

Now I can think

That somewhere

In the aether

You have a brother

Each – To care

Whilst I can care

For neither.

Yet my dears

I care so much

And thrilled to

Hope one day

I’d feel your touch

Yet life or fate or

Destiny deemed

Somehow through

Lack of worth, or

Arbitrarily

That we would

Just have time to

Feel a tiny bit

Elated

Before you were

Cut off:

Your lives

(And ours)

Truncated.

 

 

For J&S

Always (but never quite) mine

And really real.

I love you ❤

 

00OctPoWriMo