On the dark side but done extremely well. The images of one or two men digging, then waiting while the service took place so they could pick up where they left off and continue with their work.
Reviewed by Miss Pandora (Reader)
Reviewed on March 19, 2007
Dear Joyce, there was such a profound glimpse into the inevitable reality we all must face with this superb write...a soul stirring piece that leaves the reader pondering upon an unavoidable destiny. Excellent read. Love and my best to you Panda :)
Reviewed by J M (Reader)
Reviewed on March 18, 2007
You have done an excellent job with this one the imagery and the speed of how you expressed was excellent...
Dig it!!:) 'Pea' ~~ Joyce, you have started a train of thought that in my case I am afraid will lead to another spate of funeral poems. Maybe even an essay. Some may consider this ghoulish, but I can't help but think that it is healthier to watch as a loved one is lowered into 'dust' rather than have a machine do the job after
you and the other mourners are shooed away. . .know what I mean?
Great job, my friend, great job! 'Pea' <3 ~~~ PS: Thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading and reviewing my work. Bless you!!
Chill down the spine or not we all are getting everyday nearer to the working place of the gravedigger.
No many poets had before dedicated kind words for him.
This one is not the exception, it is exceptional.
Keep digging.
Georg
Yikes. What a chilling experience; wonder why he stopped your way..scary to think about! Thrilling write, glad I don't work anymore...very well done, Joyce!
(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in Tx., Karen Lynn. :(
Who needs a cold winter's night when one can read this little chiller? An excellent, thrilling write, I'm glad all turned out well. I couldn't do that kind of work...
Joyce, this poem had a touch of chill to it. It was a terrific write. Reading it, I felt as if watching the chilling event. Would hate to have that job. Have a great respect for anyone who has the job.
Reviewed by E. Farrand (Reader)
Reviewed on March 14, 2007
A great tribute to those who usually would not be acknowedged, much less recognized. Now if only we all were cremated, how easy their job would be!!
Sweet Lady - I have read every word you wrote... so lovingly and honest. You are a blessed observer, and those of us who value this are indebted to you... big time. Your writing takes away the morbidity of burial, making it a human being serving one who has lost life. There is nothing morbid or foreboding about it. Persons are loved in life, and each is loved more in death. What greater calling could the gravedigger have than helping survivors bury the deceased with dignity while meeting all the specifications? I'd like to shake your hand and his.
Your poem is great and humane writing, Dear Heart. - Bill
the imagery in this poem vividly portrays the burial scene ... it's an objective poetic analysis that uncovers the ultimate experience few poets can subjectively express with the facundity and insight you have ...
I can't help but notice that western societies today try and shove death out into the periphery of life. A new town in Scotland has its cemetery out in the 'sticks' as we say, hidden out of sight. As one who has conducted funerals, I am also aware of the desire among mourners to try - often agonisingly - to look upon the event cheerfully. We don't reverse the mood of a wedding, why deny ourselves the time to mourn? Ah well, we're only human; none of us is going to escape this world alive.
Wow Joyce, sends chills just reading about someone you rarely think of and then remember as George wrote of our soldiers in battle picking up pieces and parts...wow! Good write!
Yes someone has to do it and I am reminded of the soldiers whose job it was during war to go around and pick up the bodies and parts of dead soldiers after the battle. That was indeed a gruesome job.
You have so accurately depicted the burial scene, that I was instantly ushered back to the graves of so many loved ones......
I agree with Kate - it is healthy to discuss it truthfully.
When I was a child, my old, old great-aunt died. We travelled a long way to get there. Then they quietly led us into the house, where they had blocked off a room with black curtains, and she was "dressed" [prepared] and placed on several chairs pushed together, to be seen. I sat on a little stool and stared at that nasty old room for hours, while the adults went back and forth, weeping, some howling.
It was very unsettling.....but very common.
Excellent job on a morbid subject, Joyce.
Love, Rhonda
Thank you, Joyce. You brought this side of life alive for us (!!) through your poignant and sensitive narrative which sees all angles with clarity and realism. A beautiful and healthy approach, notwithstanding the trepidation. We do well to reconcile ourselves to these moments... it is almost the anniversary of my mother's death and I can recall moments of horror as well as sublime peace and surprise in the burying process. Hopefully, although we shall all have these moments from time to time, they won't be caused by anything too untoward. Dust to dust is nature's way. Bless you. Kate xx
Excellent and well expressed write
On the topic of death yes I guess once the
final shovel of dirt was tap
The gravedigger’s job is completed
But i would not like to have his job
It would remind me of mine own mortality
In the near future!!
A very profound write and excellent Imagery
And flow!!
Love And Peace to You Always...Morning Star
Reviewed by Butch Howard (Reader)
Reviewed on March 14, 2007
I like the way you wrote this, Joyce. It's an interesting profile of a person we rarely ever think about, because of the nature of his job; it reminds us of our own mortality and so we consciously avoid the subject. But, it is a necessary job and someone has to do it. You portray the gravedigger as hard working and respectful of those who are in mourning -silently waiting out of sight until the family has gone. I wonder what effect this kind of job has on a person over time. Does the nature of his work take a psychological toll on him? Does he appreciate life more because of it? This is a tough subject to write about and you have done it well. The care you have for others shines through your words. Well done!
~Butch
That gravedigger sure inspired you, Joyce. Your poem reminds me of a place I'm not ready to visit--hey, I don't even like to think about it. <grin> You did a wonderful job of writing "The Grave Digger".
Rosetta was born in 1909 as the youngest of ten children. The family had more laughter than money and neighbors would knock on their door to ask, "Can we come in and laugh, too?"
Sherlyn Powell opens up about her love and devotion to her family and the overwhelming repercussion when communication breaks down. Heartbroken and distraught she learns to release her prayer and realize with faith God would reunite her family.
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Blessings & peace,
Joselyn
you and the other mourners are shooed away. . .know what I mean?
Great job, my friend, great job! 'Pea' <3 ~~~ PS: Thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading and reviewing my work. Bless you!!
"The Gravedigger"
Joyce quite an imaginative poetic narrative.
Sad but all too true though.
Continued blessings,
~Gwendolyn
~hugs~
Karen
Helen
a job indeed…
“A bit morbid…” whispered some…
it fed and clothed the family in need.
This is so trueeeee. Grave digger is a title very few poeple would be happy to accept. Yet gravediggers do a necessary job for us.
Thank you very much. Please continue posting your wisdom. In is food for thought for me.
Abdullahi
Loretta Scott
"YES I CAN"
www.gulfnurse.com
Love Tinka
Light and Wisdom ...
How sadly true, Joyce, and this is quite a poem.
It's a rough road to hoe but someone has to do it. You gave me goose bumps and inspired my imagination.
No many poets had before dedicated kind words for him.
This one is not the exception, it is exceptional.
Keep digging.
Georg
(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in Tx., Karen Lynn. :(
Poor man, lost his way.
Be safe,
Karen
Who needs a cold winter's night when one can read this little chiller? An excellent, thrilling write, I'm glad all turned out well. I couldn't do that kind of work...
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
Your poem is great and humane writing, Dear Heart. - Bill
Hugs Angela
so well here....
and the gravedigger
Who'd be a gravedigger eh?
Regards
Dai
Sharon
You have so accurately depicted the burial scene, that I was instantly ushered back to the graves of so many loved ones......
I agree with Kate - it is healthy to discuss it truthfully.
When I was a child, my old, old great-aunt died. We travelled a long way to get there. Then they quietly led us into the house, where they had blocked off a room with black curtains, and she was "dressed" [prepared] and placed on several chairs pushed together, to be seen. I sat on a little stool and stared at that nasty old room for hours, while the adults went back and forth, weeping, some howling.
It was very unsettling.....but very common.
Excellent job on a morbid subject, Joyce.
Love, Rhonda
On the topic of death yes I guess once the
final shovel of dirt was tap
The gravedigger’s job is completed
But i would not like to have his job
It would remind me of mine own mortality
In the near future!!
A very profound write and excellent Imagery
And flow!!
Love And Peace to You Always...Morning Star
~Butch
I found a slight taste of humor amid the morbidity of such "The Gravedigger"
Enjoyed!
Love and Peace~
Kimmy~
Love,
Eileen
Love,
CJ