Posts Tagged ‘ loss ’

Christien Gholson – Mudlark Flash 143 (2021) – Poetry

Lament for Snow Blowing off the Roof under Grey Skies

There is loss it skins the world raw 
Sloughs off tomorrow and tomorrow blots out the stars scrapes 
	snow-dust across snow-hives 
Tears snow through snow a junco blown into last night’s window 
Unfathomable loss no raven or angel eye can plumb it

I must forget how snow can peel back the skin

This is the loss snow-dust an illusion while it happens 
Snow-dust that flies already gone 
I long for raven wing on a fence-post mice who dream 
	snow-crust into existence packrat-cell beneath 
	floorboards double oval of deer prints in mud 
	while they are still here

I must forget the snow as it falls
  
There is loss indistinguishable from my death who stands 
	beside me wearing a late Paleozoic snow-cloak 
When I go snow-blind there’s nothing left but voices on 
	the wind calling to themselves hunting their 
	former bodies 
Look at how they ache and cry and skin the air

I must forget how all the cats in the world lift their open mouths 
		to catch the flying snow

This is the loss standing on the shoreline with my first child 
	watching snow fall into the sea 
Whitecap-embrace of water with water thinking how many 
	times it will happen in the years to come and it has 
	not come again 
Death’s hands are cold so cold but hold me so close

I have already forgotten the murder-cry in the magpie’s 
                                  blue feather

I spin with snow-dust become snow-dust for maybe the last time 
To feel snow-dust blow through the heart into a cavern of masks 
	and stub-candles held by disembodied claws 
Our hands and tongues and thighs become shadow-mutations 
	because of such loss

How can I forget the way snow collects on your hat your 
               cheeks eyelashes brightens your eyes

This is the loss words torn off roofs names without bodies 
No I would become snow I would   
I would sacrifice my body for the body of snow the slide of 
	a blue whale’s back against ocean ice the arctic hare’s 
	leap the snow leopard’s eye from behind snow-driven 
	stone No

I will not forget

Source: christien Gholson – Mudlark Flash 143 (2021) – Poetry

Taking Stock: First Month of Caesura — Caesura

John Walter, A Virus Walks Into A Bar, 2018. HD video, 19 minutes 54 seconds. Arts Council Collection. From: Creative Tourist.

At Caesura, we are still making sense of who our audience is and who it can be.

Source: Taking Stock: First Month of Caesura — Caesura

‘The Irishman’ Review: The Mob’s Greatest Hits, in a Somber Key – The New York Times

A Classic Collection of Loss and Resilience: Deflection by Roberta Beary | Charlotte Digregorio’s Writer’s Blog

autumn coolness enters a hand long held in mine

 

Roberta Beary
from Deflection, 2015

 

Source: A Classic Collection of Loss and Resilience: Deflection by Roberta Beary | Charlotte Digregorio’s Writer’s Blog

‘Climate Despair’ Is Making People Give Up on Life – VICE

GRETA THUNBERG, THE YOUNG SWEDISH ACTIVIST WHO HAS SPOKEN ABOUT HER STRUGGLES WITH DEPRESSION. MICHAEL CAMPANELLA/GETTY IMAGES

“It’s super painful to be a human being right now at this point in history.”

Source: ‘Climate Despair’ Is Making People Give Up on Life – VICE

Author Fujisawa’s secret notes blaze with grit and grief:The Asahi Shimbun

“Loneliness has continued to ripple through my mind. Grief that almost makes me go insane cuts me deep. I must write a novel.”

Shuhei Fujisawa (1927-1997) recorded the deep sorrow he felt over the loss of his wife, Etsuko, in a pocketbook, excerpts of which his sole daughter, Nobuko Endo, has published in a magazine for the first time to mark the 20th anniversary of the prominent author’s death.

The words were written about 20 days after his first wife’s death at the age of 28, leaving an 8-month-old Endo behind.

Fujisawa’s writings in an unpublished pocketbook and three notebooks describe his dream of becoming an author, his passion for writing, and the deep grief over the loss of his wife.

“Loneliness has continued to ripple through my mind. Grief that almost makes me go insane cuts me . . .

Source: Author Fujisawa’s secret notes blaze with grit and grief:The Asahi Shimbun

First Known When Lost: Beauty

First Known When Lost

I never had noticed it until
‘Twas gone, — the narrow copse
Where now the woodman lops
The last of the willows with his bill.

It was not more than a hedge overgrown.
One meadow’s breadth away
I passed it day by day.
Now the soil is bare as a bone,

And black betwixt two meadows green,
Though fresh-cut faggot ends
Of hazel make some amends
With a gleam as if flowers they had been.

Strange it could have hidden so near!
And now I see as I look
That the small winding brook,
A tributary’s tributary, rises there.

Edward Thomas, in Edna Longley (editor), Edward Thomas: The Annotated Collected Poems (Bloodaxe Books 2008).

Source: First Known When Lost: Beauty

The Essential Mundanity of Grief | Hazlitt

I don’t know where or when I learned that I needed to curb any narcissistic tendency I might feel, even in grieving, but I most certainly caught on quick.

Source: The Essential Mundanity of Grief | Hazlitt

A Longhouse Birdhouse: JOHN BERGER ~

Source: A Longhouse Birdhouse: JOHN BERGER ~

Theodore Roethke …A cold paralyzing horror: | Mythology of Blue

. . . A cold paralyzing horror: a glimpse into the subhuman…the sickness of life beginning again: the exhausting awareness of every ache. What the hand does in reaching, a misery of awareness; loss of memory in small things; hatred of necessary routines; hatred but not fear of dark; watching the skin, the fingers; overeating; a full preoccupation with unnecessary tasks; weakness in the morning; fear of headlights; distrust of children; a tide of loss.

Mythology of Blue : …A cold paralyzing horror: a glimpse into the….