Cold hard marble
an expression of grief
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Nothing to know about grief
The thing about losing something
is that there is nothing to know.
It's an emotion that takes hold of you
pushes you around like a bully that doesn't let up.
You put up with it, let it bleed you dry,
cry yourself to sleep until it loses its strength.
And then you can push it under you, into your heart
Occasionally it will bubble up, making you vomit emotions.
Eventually, it will become a part of you
reminding you how capable you are of love
and how love never really leaves you.
The stuff of cemeteries
When life becomes a thing of cold hard marble.
When your touch feels the chill
of placing your hand on a tomb.
Searching for warmth and another's touch
when nothing is left but the emptiness of absence.
That is when grief is in your heart.
The chill remains with you every day
I was lucky to have you,
hold you.
Be in your company because this moment is
ever so brief and precious.
You can never hold onto anything
just the love in our hearts
which echoes and reverberates through
bereaved souls.
When things become the stuff of cemeteries and funerals
when the touch of cold marble tombstones
are little consolation against the heat of fresh grief.
When death falls all around you
then that is the time to stop and breathe
hold onto the ones you love
it is impossible to say goodbye
so make memories
search out happiness and
follow what gives you the spark
which is life itself.
Taking a moment to grieve
It's been a tough week for me in Sicily. My mother in law has passed away after many years of illness.
My Sicilian family is grieving the loss of their matriarch, Nonna, Zia and mother.
Sending prayers to anyone else who has lost a family member at Christmas or Easter time it is tough to grieve when others are celebrating.
Needless to say I'll be disappearing from social media and blogging for a while out of respect for my family's loss.
Thank you for understanding.
See you soon
Here is a poem I'd like to share with you.
In loving memory of my dearest mother in law💙
Gone
The bride has gone to her groom
after years of suffering and doom
Her last breath left her body tonight
as she struggled through the last moments of life.
May she find peace and light
as the wailing grief of her children
floats upon the veil between us now.
Go sweet lady, mother and child
find those who are waiting for you
beyond this life and the next.
You are gone, but you are here
in our hearts, memories and minds.
Go with peace and light as we
weep, our hearts will be forever
heavier at your loss but it is
something we are destined to bare.
Go to your father and mother, they
have been waiting for so long.
There are so many there waiting for you, more than are here now.
She has gone to the home our restless souls seek, where all destinies end.
This is my prayer for you to the holy Maria della Stella on the days Jesus defeats death may he shine his light and guide Maria Stella to the heavens.
Still here
Love is still here for you
as I light a candle
in front
of your photo
I remember how your grandson and I
smothered you with hugs and kisses
the last time we said goodbye
Our love for you remains
here suspended in the air
you are intertwined in these
three words.
Ghosts
My home is filled with ghosts
it is a haunted house.
Like those eerie places
where holocausts have occurred
covered in a thick layer of genocidal misery
from violent acts that have torn souls
away from this world.
The spirits and bad energy linger in the air
making me uneasy
giving me goosebumps
and the strange sensation
someone is trying to whisper something to me
but I cannot make out the words.
Memories flash in my mind as I am where my childhood was played out.
Each step brings me back to the memories and people who will never return.
For one moment and I am a child.
I wish I had been kinder, taken more time to appreciate them.
I turn to look for those beautiful souls, and they are gone
like that sinking feeling when a once vibrant house is now still
the soul is abscent.
I'm always more and more alone as family and friends disappear.
One moment they are here, I can touch them, I feel them,
talk to them, bask in their company, have their advice
and support.
Their laughter and tears are my music.
Then there is silence, and the memories haunt me reminding me they are gone,
my home is filled with ghosts.
Endeavour
A funny thing about the heart
is that it keeps beating
even though it's broken.
Even if the pieces go missing
it still keeps you alive.
Unless it has something else wrong with it
the heartbreak won't kill you.
Even though you feel dead on the inside
it keeps ticking along.
Why? Because that's the way life is supposed to be lived
always shuffling forward.
Children are pushing the years onwards impatiently
willing the time to move more quickly,
youth makes us want to run
in a hurry to achieve something.
Other moments life make us stop
like smashing into a light pole at high speed.
We survive the car crashes life gives us,
slowly re-habilitating ourselves,
because even though we are forced to stop at times
to catch our breath, we never can stop the moment.
It helps us this motion, keeps us putting one foot in front of the other
this gives us a future to look forward to, a past filled with memories,
a way to cope with loss, disappointment and grief.
We are humans who survive it all, growing through strength and love.
Passing on our intuition, drive and knowledge onto the universe
who takes us always onwards.
About grief
I know a little bit about grief.
It's the moment you realise
you cannot go back on your own steps
you can't make it better
or say I love you again
see someone's face every day,
hear their laugh, trace the outline of their smile,
hold their hand or give them a hug.
When you learn what it feels like to run out of time.
No more silent pauses in conversations
seeing them across the table,
passing the salad bowl at dinner.
All of those moments you take for granted
stop in your mind,
they are gathered up in memories
and the grieving begins.
I've learnt grief isn't bad,
it's all we have, really,
for our tears are our love
which used to go out
towards those we love.
After they are gone it has nowhere to go,
so our unexpressed love
becomes our grief.
And as our passion is as undying,
as our mourning.
This will never leave
not until our dying days.
It may seem ironic
but I hope we never
stop grieving
because it keeps our
dearly departed near us.
Life doesn't stop
when someone dies,
it merely shifts
and changes into another
gear and somehow
we live with it.
The Bearded Lady
The bearded lady shaves off her beard
what a strange sensation
her skin tingles
the upper lip so smooth
she is almost cold
as erotic as a Brazilian wax
feeling naked she strangely misses
her fuzzy covering.
As strangers look at her
she realises no one knows
about her beard
only the subtle lines
of her pale face, dimpled chin
and a strong jawline.
Beneath her mask she is beautiful
but she never acknowledges it
or feels her power
she is always hiding, meekly behind
her overwhelming insecurities
she had left it too late
to be free from her plumage
past her prime, she rubs her
smooth cheeks and wonders who
she might have seduced
in her youth
if she had the courage
to shave before
then she suddenly desires her beard.
