May 2016
LISTENING TO YOUR FAVOURITE PIECE OF MUSIC
Oh you were so
quiet
I hardly heard you
tiptoe silently in
settle yourself
amongst the strings
talking to me
now in cello
now in violin
the heartbeat of a drum
the exchange of laughter
between glockenspiel & xylophone
making a point
with either
the tiny ******
of a triangle
or the crash of a symbol.
I listen to you talk
to me in music
the candlelight
grows dim & then
as softly as you came
you leave
leaves
(fluttering against
the windowpane) .
I feel you leave
leave before the movement ends
footsteps
in the silence of my memory
me nearly
forgetting
that you've died
listening on
until the end
as the music
cries.
Oh you were so
quiet
I hardly heard you
tiptoe silently in
settle yourself
amongst the strings
talking to me
now in cello
now in violin
the heartbeat of a drum
the exchange of laughter
between glockenspiel & xylophone
making a point
with either
the tiny ******
of a triangle
or the crash of a symbol.
I listen to you talk
to me in music
the candlelight
grows dim & then
as softly as you came
you leave
leaves
(fluttering against
the windowpane) .
I feel you leave
leave before the movement ends
footsteps
in the silence of my memory
me nearly
forgetting
that you've died
listening on
until the end
as the music
cries.
And this is the poem that brought forth this listening....
FAIRY TALE
I sit by your bedside
watching your dying.
Only Love
nails me to this pain.
I unable to escape
your dying.
I tell you
Irish legends
& Hans Christian Anderson
as you become
again
(if only for a little while)
the child
you used to be
once upon a time
when wonder & delight
were new
as daylight.
“Tell me Lir! ”
“Tell me the Children of Lir! ”
I tell
of how
they are turned into swans
& the loneliness of eternity.
I too knit nettles
to break the spell
throw the garment over
your cancer’d body
so you can
return again
to being
the human
I have known.
This dying is cruel
beyond belief.
An insult
to your life.
I love you so much I would **** you
if I could **** you
but I...can’t.
I want every breath
of you
not to be your last.
You journey to your death
dancing with your pain
my little mermaid
my little ballerina
I guard
your dying
a Constant
Tin Soldier
as you become
foam
foam
on the sea.
Just a day ago
******* a sultana
I held
on the tip of my fingertip
telling me to call your name.
“I love
living in your voice! ”
“So nice...so nice! ”
And I a blind Prince
wandering now
lost in the fairy tale
of your Death.
I close
your eyes.
kiss the last warmth
of your lips.
FAIRY TALE
I sit by your bedside
watching your dying.
Only Love
nails me to this pain.
I unable to escape
your dying.
I tell you
Irish legends
& Hans Christian Anderson
as you become
again
(if only for a little while)
the child
you used to be
once upon a time
when wonder & delight
were new
as daylight.
“Tell me Lir! ”
“Tell me the Children of Lir! ”
I tell
of how
they are turned into swans
& the loneliness of eternity.
I too knit nettles
to break the spell
throw the garment over
your cancer’d body
so you can
return again
to being
the human
I have known.
This dying is cruel
beyond belief.
An insult
to your life.
I love you so much I would **** you
if I could **** you
but I...can’t.
I want every breath
of you
not to be your last.
You journey to your death
dancing with your pain
my little mermaid
my little ballerina
I guard
your dying
a Constant
Tin Soldier
as you become
foam
foam
on the sea.
Just a day ago
******* a sultana
I held
on the tip of my fingertip
telling me to call your name.
“I love
living in your voice! ”
“So nice...so nice! ”
And I a blind Prince
wandering now
lost in the fairy tale
of your Death.
I close
your eyes.
kiss the last warmth
of your lips.
