Crick Crack
old the bones go
deep
into sorrowful pity
life remains
long after all has ceased
terminally contented
in moments of
woe
abiding the day
with haunted memories
grey as the cobble stones
of the complicated, unyielding mind
worn the hands
of which long ago
weaved
golden strings
into a protective veil
unable to behold
forgiveness
the nest of aniomosity
humming its lullaby
Crick Crack
old the bones go
to this moment
in sorrow
an old senile woman
forgotten
the last line got me...i hate to see our elders so alone. i spent a summer helping my great uncle...making him sandwiches...helping in the shop...i was 14, he was 86...my he had stories to tell.
ReplyDeleteOh, Kay, this one made me want to cry! That photo is beautiful as are the woman's hands and your words. Girl, I'm creaking and popping and I'm only in my 50's. Ha! Mama is 80 and I don't know how she still gets around, but she's up and about every single day in spite of having arthritis of the spine. She's my hero and my inspiration to keep on keeping on. Bless you for this amazing poem!
ReplyDeleteKay, this poem has brought tears to my eyes, those hands are beautiful and too think of the aged alone breaks my heart....you are so young to even think of these things, I think you are amazing.......:-) Hugs
ReplyDeleteSo this also implies that if she could have forgiven life as it happened, she would have young bones and would still be engaged to the memories of the moment that would last beyond time.
ReplyDeleteWonderful and intense, Kay! I am so happy to see you back writing. So sad to be alone...sometimes I believe, though, those with an unforgiving heart end up just this way. Life is too short not to love and forgive. We don't forget, but forgiveness frees us to be truly happy. Your words really highlight this principle and are deeply moving.
ReplyDeleteThank you for this, Kay! Gorgeous!
Beautiful, thought provoking piece, Kay.
ReplyDeleteGosh, my bones are feelin' old today.
The 40's are scary to me, because it's crossed over from young in my mind. I'm staring at this inevitable end, and every crick and crack bring me closer to nonexistence.
ReplyDeleteBut there's beauty in those hands...experiencial beauty. And old bones don't have to be sorrowful, if I attend to them now.
I am always fascinated by photographs of the elderly, because I think we all have a visceral reaction when we see the elderly. They are a constant reminder of our own mortality.
ReplyDeleteI think her hands are beautiful. Think of all they have accomplished, think of their touch when young holding hands, exciting loved. Your words are sad. Think of the journey, what the hands have accomplished.
ReplyDeleteKay, this poem touched my heart so much.
ReplyDeleteIt's sad but beautifully written!
Wonderful poem ... thank you!
Margie:)
Alone in that nest of animosity. Without even the animosity to keep her warm.
ReplyDeleteA striking image.
I would be curious to know exactly what your inspiration was for this one. Interesting.
ReplyDeleteThat was really touching Kay! Just like Fireblossom, even I'd like to know where did you derive inspiration for those beautiful lines. Every line had exact set of emotions packed in them. Really nice! :)
ReplyDeleteThose hands have character, love and experience, pain and despair. They are the vignettes of one's life. It's sad to see existence whittle down to the anonymity of forgetfulness and desolation.
ReplyDeleteIf our bestowed best wishes to those we love come true, then we all will live to be a ripe old age. I hope our worldly politics takes note of this and provides genuine care for those truly unable to any longer care for themselves. Our every effort for longevity and good health will eventually bring each of us to the same place. How ignorant to not be able to see ourselves there.
ReplyDeleteHAunting words to a perfect photo for them!
ReplyDeleteYou are right about my photo glaring on the white back ground :).
I do see your font easily here on black. I hope you took no offense! There are blogs that I literally can't decipher because of the font color against the dark blending together. I always hope they are not losing visitors because they do not know people are having a hard time reading at at their place.
Kay that was excellent. Moving, deep ...
ReplyDeletejonas
Such beauty in the photo, such sorrow in the words. Well-written.
ReplyDeleteThe last line hits home. Wistful. Haunting.
ReplyDeleteIts really touchy and true.... I love your poetry :)
ReplyDeleteThe image reminded me of my grandmother who passed away recently!!
ReplyDeleteShe used to work so hard even to her last day, I seriously can't imagine how much she did for all of us!!!
N yes, ur post is lovely!
stunning work as ever
ReplyDeleteI'm loving the 'F' word...Forgiveness!
ReplyDeleteGreat weekend~
xo*
Lovely and sad. "Terminally contented" is an amazing turn of phrase.
ReplyDeleteKay,
ReplyDeleteI think old hands are beautiful. They show the passing of time, love, devotion, wisdom forgiveness and peace (among other things...). You captured it all so well!!
-Alex
Yes, cease the day,
ReplyDeletebefore it is too late!
Such wise words you found to make our human dilemma come to life,
so touchingly. Thank you for reminding me of appreciating the ones who walk before us.
P.S.:
ReplyDeleteWhen I visit your blog, I usually leave the page open and feast.
Feast on your words, up and down the page. You are a great writer and poetess (I am listening to Berlioz' Symphonie Fantastique as I am writing this, apt music to your words!).
That was beautiful.
ReplyDeleteIt has been quite sometime since I have been here, and I feel fresh after reading a touching poem!
Good work!
this left me speechless and over whelmed. I am trying to deal with my mother and father being elderly. I know that sounds silly, of course they are, heck I am 55 so they have to be.. lol but it's hard to accept. I am sure you know what I mean. it breaks my heart to see the elderly left alone, no love, it hurts when i see the loneliness on their faces, I just that this weekend.. and I cried as I did reading this.. BLess U.. this is brilliant.. !!
ReplyDeleteThis is so so sad. To be forgotten...:(
ReplyDeleteSounds like a story of the fear of growing old or gratitude for not being old yet.
ReplyDelete'Crick Crack' ... Kay that's genius. Eerie, I was whisked back to my childhood and was in 'Hansel and Gretal' lost in the woods.
ReplyDeleteWhere do you source your photography? Again great work :)
Oh ye, I came to tell you that I have presented you with an award on my blog, but you just blew me away. Anyway come pick it up.
Kay, this poem is ever so touching. Love the clever words. Blessings dear one....
ReplyDeletethe pic, the poem - wow.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful poem! So beautiful!!! :)
ReplyDeleteKay, there is something for you at my blog. :-)
ReplyDeleteIt's the second post down.
Very powerful and moving.
ReplyDeleteYes I am not liking this aging process much.Why do we have to get old?
ReplyDeleteBut your words beautiful in themselves and the description of such. I am loving that picture too; hands that tell a story.