Merle keeps buttoning her blouse, buttoning her blouse, buttoning her blouse. The same button. The top one, just beneath her chin. A squirrel fondling a nut, her fingers push that button, over and over, over and over, in. Into the hole, out of the hole, Again, again, again. Anything, everything to take her mind off him. A postage stamp. Berlin. A two legged dog. Soldiers, scorched and grey. One two four sixty. Her head flies across the bay. Painkillers kill the pain and take her far away. Elliot watches, his heart in his boots. Obsessed by this woman he called Home. So quickly she became half her size. Soon she will be gone. Buttoning her blouse, buttoning her blouse, buttoning her blouse, beneath a shattered moon. “Sasquatch,” she sighs, “too loose, too loose, turtles, lemons, hummm.” Tears flank Elliot’s chest where two red roses bloom. Merle is already gone. His heart is now her tomb.
Potent.Your use of repetition and comparison all come together to create a very visual and palpable sense of alzheimers. I've taken care of a man with this and you take us right into these two people.
That last line really hit me hard- "His heart is now her tomb".
Superb write Jerelyn
Great work Jerelyn. You have captured the essence of Altzheimer's Diseast. My mother-in-law suffers from dementia. She's 91 years old now, and most days she doesn't know which year she's living in. Sad to watch this happen, because we are so helpless to do anything about it.
Anna
Reviewed by Dark Knight (Reader)
Reviewed on May 12, 2008
I was about to leave the den for the night and was struck by this poem and I am glad I read it-very powerful writing!!!
Reviewed by Rafika Anderson (Reader)
Reviewed on January 28, 2008
The treachery and tragedy of this insidious disease is so aptly captured within your vibrant verse. Bravo.
A very empathic poem describing repeated gestures that lost all meaning,
this death before death. In your words, a whole world
- painful, absurd - appears.
I love the lines: "Elliot watched,
his heart in his boots.
Obsessed by this woman he called Home."
Beautifully completed by: "His heart was now her tomb."
Wow! I've never heard or seen the horror of altzheimer's described better. Saddening and maddening! Brilliant minds gone before the body follows. Tragedy beyond comprehension.
Deeply personal. No one understands until they've "been there"
blessin's Sis Jerelyn,
cynth'ya lewis reed
Reviewed by Simon Barreiros (Reader)
Reviewed on November 28, 2006
Fine writing Ms. Crayden. The final transition is truly the most challenging for the one leaving and for the loved ones. Like the way the meter and thoughts flit and bang around like a trapped dazed hummingbird, like thoughts of an Alzheimers patient.
All the best,
simonb
Irreplaceable You...a Masterpiece of a write!!!
A very trying experience to watch a loved one succumb to such a disease...Your last line brought this to a new light, knowing Elliot was there, and always will be...
Glad to meet you Jerelyn! :)
Love and Peace~
Kimmy~
Oh my gosh! This is a stunning write my friend and very powerful indeed. Makes me think of a dear friend who is suffering from the same illness...such a sad disease but such a beautiful write. I loved the last beautiful and powerful line...his heart was now her tomb....can't describe how powerful this line is...your a beautiful poet.
Blessings,
Joyce Bowling
Oh my God. This touched me to my depths Jerelyn. My Grandmother died of Alzheimer's and we all felt as this poor husband did...as though we lost her by inches until she was already dead in every way that mattered. Gracious, this was an amazing piece. Bless you. Michelle
"Irreplaceable You"
Yes although tragic to a degree this write is,
it sadly is true at times. Hopefully, the one's
that suffer have at least led a fulfilling life.
Your words were well constructed and executed, a true
depiction nonetheless! The imagery knitted throughout
was also superb!
Thank you for sharing this onset through your poetry, quite unique, I think!
Sincerely,
From the Heart of an Artist Quiet Storm
Deeply sad and hard hitting poem, Jerelyn. "His heart was now her tomb" is an incredible conclusion. I love how you use repetition in this. Another great poem from you.
Brett
Reviewed by D. Byron Patterson (Reader)
Reviewed on October 31, 2006
Lovely, Jerelyn. Just tragic and lovely. Bless you for this one. --DB
A very touching and intricately woven poem on a very sensitive subject.
My mother is very sinile and is prone to repeating her words and occasionally screams. So sad a state to find once proud, intelligent and energetic people. As Elliot experienced, nothing is returned in dialogue.
Elliot watched,
his heart in his boots.
Obsessed by this woman he called Home.
So quickly she had become half her size.
Soon she would be gone.
Tears flanked Elliot’s chest
where two red roses bloomed.
Merle was already gone.
His heart was now her tomb.
Delicate metaphors that reek of a soul aching desperately for a love no longer able to be returned.
Just as life during the pandemic was color-coded with different hues representing different levels of danger, life in its aftermath has become shaded in similar ways. As a self-styled “Seeker of Beauty with Beauty,” (borrowing from a quote by W.E.B.
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That last line really hit me hard- "His heart is now her tomb".
Superb write Jerelyn
~Zach
Anna
Ed
this death before death. In your words, a whole world
- painful, absurd - appears.
I love the lines: "Elliot watched,
his heart in his boots.
Obsessed by this woman he called Home."
Beautifully completed by: "His heart was now her tomb."
I'm glad I read this poem.
Axilea
Rose
blessin's Sis Jerelyn,
cynth'ya lewis reed
All the best,
simonb
Art Sun.....
A very trying experience to watch a loved one succumb to such a disease...Your last line brought this to a new light, knowing Elliot was there, and always will be...
Glad to meet you Jerelyn! :)
Love and Peace~
Kimmy~
Blessings,
Joyce Bowling
Regis
Alzheimers.
Very intelligently written on such a difficult subject...
"Irreplaceable You"
Yes although tragic to a degree this write is,
it sadly is true at times. Hopefully, the one's
that suffer have at least led a fulfilling life.
Your words were well constructed and executed, a true
depiction nonetheless! The imagery knitted throughout
was also superb!
Thank you for sharing this onset through your poetry, quite unique, I think!
Sincerely,
From the Heart of an Artist Quiet Storm
Brett
My mother is very sinile and is prone to repeating her words and occasionally screams. So sad a state to find once proud, intelligent and energetic people. As Elliot experienced, nothing is returned in dialogue.
Elliot watched,
his heart in his boots.
Obsessed by this woman he called Home.
So quickly she had become half her size.
Soon she would be gone.
Tears flanked Elliot’s chest
where two red roses bloomed.
Merle was already gone.
His heart was now her tomb.
Delicate metaphors that reek of a soul aching desperately for a love no longer able to be returned.