Re: breakfast sonnet for rob evans

In message <1179420675.548720.218440@xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx>, George Dance <georgedance04@xxxxxxxx> writes
On May 14, 11:22 am, Rob <r...@xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx> wrote:

snip



Elegy For Pete Brown

There's no way round this. Time to say goodbye.
Belatedly, of course, you're three years dead.
Yet I still see you, flensed upon your bed,
as thin and insubstantial as a sigh.
Your poet's instinct made you want to try
to chart with words the route that lay ahead
but that I couldn't bear. Oh no, instead,
I fed you that tired "you-can-beat-this" lie.

You faced the jagged path I feared to tread
or talk about, so I chose to deny
that only failing breath coughs black and red.
But here at last, my friend, I meet your eye
the way I should have on the night you said,
"There's no way round this. Time to say goodbye."


snip



Agreeing To No Resuscitation

i.m. Annie Evans

You had all the remedies, back then:
dock leaves, rub-it-better, an aspirin.
With fifty years gone by, our roles reverse
and all that I can do is make things worse.

Breath is your only burden left to bear,
each one a hesitation as you stare,
unfocussed, at some far uncertainty.
It seems that even now, you see through me.

Your sister said last night you smiled at her
but the heart paints pictures for the retina:
trompe l'oeil to prevent us looking through
a real window to a real, less-populated view.

You're old, tired, shutting down, and that's... Okay,
my eyes know this but, oh, my heart says stay.


These, by the way, ARE sonnets. And please note that the last one uses
an ellipsis with some effect as opposed to wasting it on the banality of
an "experimental" full stop.

Rob
--
Rob Evans


Thank you for reposting these two pieces, neither of which I'd seen
before. I'm currently having trouble working on a sonnet of my own
(Spring Again). These two pieces perfectly give the mood - acceptance
of death as acceptance of the inevitable - that I'm having so much
trouble trying to capture. How you've said it doesn't help me - the
circumstances are completely different - but you've helped me connect
with the proper emotion. I expect I'll be rereading these two qute a
bit before my own poem comes together.

Thanks George, I hope yours comes.

Rob
--
Rob Evans

Poetry is the needle that pricks your finger;
everything else is the haystack

--
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