Tag Archives: death

Day 15 of napowrimo (late) – for Uncle Paul

19 Apr

I remember him running, almost bent double, suit jacket flapping behind him
Looking like a mallard trying to fly, Uncle Paul chased the football
Overdressed as always for a summer day of playing in the park, sweat ran in rivers down his face
He lived for games, did Uncle Paul; football, cricket, darts, cards…
He had an Atari console – the first I ever saw, and he let us play on Space Invaders

Uncle Paul lived with grandma and grandad. Their massive dog Gemma ran him ragged.
He was of very slight build and I only noticed how short he was as I grew so much taller
In many ways, Uncle Paul was only halfway here and as the games receded, so did he
His hip gave out; he couldn’t run any more. Grandma’s death broke his heart
Grandad couldn’t look after him, so Uncle Paul went to live in a home.

Games and summer running were replaced by drinking and falling over
Every time I saw him he looked smaller, but the intensity in his eyes remained
His voice was hoarse, his laugh high-pitched, his legs even bonier now under a blanket somewhere
Grandad died and Uncle Paul receded ’til you wouldn’t have thought a person could recede any more
Then yesterday Uncle Paul died.
I haven’t seen him for years.

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Day 3 – Napowrimo 2017: Elegy for the Unknown Hoarder

3 Apr

You can’t get inside his home
His life sits against the door
Ev’ry ingress blocked by so m-
-any prized possessions, for
He ne’er threw a thing away
Filled his shelves, and then the floor
With things to read, things to play
Things found on a distant shore

Sleeps not in bed, sits not on chair
Cannot find them any more
They are all in here somewhere
In condition rather poor
Piled on high with newer things
Bought from a gone, long gone store
Now he’s dead, him and his lot
Will now and forever rot

For napowrimo day 3 – an elegy.

Water snail – eater of hope

30 Jun

Where once was hope
there’s now just
a solitary
water snail
sucking on
my entrails

From whence it came
I don’t know
it killed me though, this
water snail.
I wish that
it would go.

Society – a landay for day 19 of napowrimo 2015

20 Apr

Society hides its corruption
Behind respectable walls while we eat our children

For napowrimo day 19.

Justice – day 5 of napowrimo 2015

5 Apr
Today’s ‘thing’ is a mash-up of Emily Dickinson’s ‘After great pain, a formal feeling comes’, as per today’s napowrimo prompt.
Yesterday: contentment remembered. 

Before letting go, then questions. Ceremonious persons.
After: wooden nerves. Lead feet. Stone heart. Pain.
Centuries of stupor. Chill quartz tombs.
Freezing ground.
Snow.

What can’t be seen is dead – for NaPoWriMo day 1

1 Apr
Don the blinkers. Adjust. There.

A focused field of view
The here and now, the road ahead
Doesn’t include you
Exclusive arc. Vision clear
Window bracketed
The tidy, simple future path
What can’t be seen is dead
Won’t look in the corner
Won’t look in the mirror
Yet I feel your presence
Growing ever near

“Today’s [NaPoWriMo] prompt is a poem of negation…”

Talking of walking

27 Nov

Languid coils of potential energy
Striders purposeful
Almost runners
Wiggling bottoms
Different walking people

Bouncers defying earth’s gravity
Shamblers reluctant
Limpers and gimpers
Starers and blinkereds
Myriad ambulant


 

I knew a man who I liked so I stalked
But the older he grew, the faster he walked
‘Til it got to the point where I couldn’t keep up
So I had to trip him to force him to stop

He tried to get up and give me the slip
But I had him in quite a vice-like grip
I didn’t ask why he’d kept such a pace
He knew I was death by the fear on his face.