In the unseen world, we die a little every day, denied of grace, acceptance, opportunity. It is easier, wise ones among us say, to never have known these three than once to have belonged and been banished.
I drink no more from deep silver chalice of compassionate care nor do I feast with those deemed most fit to serve. I miss the banquet with you, friend, your gifts welcome as mine are pushed aside and under.
There is no subtlety in hushed communiqué, upturn of that lip I love, the haughty laugh as you nudge one you call friend and walk by fast pretending not to notice me alone, malnourished in spirit, my hope shrunken,these anguished cries echoing in strange silence that’s become my only home.
Painstakingly, I form wordless prayers to God who answers not, beg for crumbs you sweep away from table of plenty. Stricken, I fall, a crumpled heap of flesh decaying, thirsting for memory’s death as rivers of remembrance carve away stony precipice where I cry.
You are drinking to the very dregs of the cup of despair with this one, Dawn, and your poetry is marvellous in shape and form. Sorry if I have said it before, but I keep repeating Floria Kelderhouse's quote: "pain makes the pen fly", and in this case it is so true. The flow of your thoughts and expression is excellent. So many wonderful lines: "These anguished cries echoing in strange silence that's become my home"; "Thirsting for memory's death as rivers of remembrance carve away stony precipice where I cry". You use Christian imagery and I can relate: sadly, it is often us Christians who make our own brothers and sisters feel the most unworthy and who judge and drive the hardest. I am sorry for your pain - both expressed so well and as yet well-hidden! The darkest hour is just before the dawn. Bless you. Kate xx
You are an incredible poet Dawn.
One who makes me think, "Wow, do I belong with these great poets?"
But many of us, and what grace, realize we are together in more ways than just on this board.
So be nice to your heart, it is connected to mine.
John
wow this is a wonderful piece
spilling with emotions
pain-staking verses
and can be carried across so many avenues
the art work is outstanding as well
outstanding!
Reviewed by Lady Peg (Reader)
Reviewed on June 12, 2004
Dawn,
So moving and emotive this one from stanza one gripped me with empathy...
'In the unseen world, we die a little every day,
denied of grace, acceptance, opportunity.
It is easier, wise ones among us say,
to never have known these three
than once to have belonged
and been banished."
The true story of Cheryl Pierson Cuccio who made headlines in 1986 and her husband Rob Cuccio. Cheryl was abused sexually and physically and Rob died for 43 minutes on Cheryl's 43rd birthday.
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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One who makes me think, "Wow, do I belong with these great poets?"
But many of us, and what grace, realize we are together in more ways than just on this board.
So be nice to your heart, it is connected to mine.
John
spilling with emotions
pain-staking verses
and can be carried across so many avenues
the art work is outstanding as well
outstanding!
So moving and emotive this one from stanza one gripped me with empathy...
'In the unseen world, we die a little every day,
denied of grace, acceptance, opportunity.
It is easier, wise ones among us say,
to never have known these three
than once to have belonged
and been banished."
lady Peg