Mourning Poems
Relaxing with Yr Memory
by Lee-Ann Azzopardi
The candle is burnt out
With the tears that flowed
As I weep looking at yr portrait
I realised you are gone forever
And not anything can bring you back
No matter how I try to stop
The tears keep returning
While I stare at the ceiling
I can see yr face in heaven
I am waiting for you and me to embrace
......
grief is a room
by Rikske Kessner
Grief is a solitary room,
a place you sit in alone.
Over time that room stretches;
grief becomes a shared landscape,
the mourned being landscape itself—
not gone, but part of the air
that settles around each connection.
It turns into a kind of weather
......
Bird on a wire
by Mario Odekerken
I moved like a bird on a wire-
unsteady,trembling,
too high to rest,too low to fly.
There were nights
when the silence pressed in so tightly
I mistook it for peace.
I spoke when I should have listened,
reached when I should have let go.
......
Mourner
by D.E. Shannon
Statues weep sky
Moss crowned
Rough gloved
Watch her
Knees dampened
Head bowed to weathered rock
Water whispering against neck
Veined hands crave mud
......
briefly
by Rikske Kessner
briefly
Morning’s borrowed light
slides in unasked,
a soft spill across the floorboards,
easy as breath on a cool pane.
......
Relaxing with Yr Memory
by Lee-Ann Azzopardi
The candle is burnt out
With the tears that flowed
As I weep looking at yr portrait
I realised you are gone forever
And not anything can bring you back
No matter how I try to stop
The tears keep returning
While I stare at the ceiling
I can see yr face in heaven
I am waiting for you and me to embrace
......
bookends of his frame
by Rikske Kessner
In memoriam, to the one biological dad, on his birthday
"bookends of his frame"
He drew his first breath in the shadow of iron—
June of forty-two, when the world was loud,
......
briefly
by Rikske Kessner
briefly
Morning’s borrowed light
slides in unasked,
a soft spill across the floorboards,
easy as breath on a cool pane.
......
worth keeping
by Rikske Kessner
turns mark the hours, the hand moves
through whatever waits, its cold watching,
heart worn from the strain, its pace held,
a quiet kind of proof
day holds a low cry, dark runs long,
the road draws out, twilight thins,
weight settles, breath tightens
light holds for a moment, grief returns,
......
May Message
by Nkwachukwu Ogbuagu
Damp —across the fulcrum of the
Wheel of this month —May;
It creaks the cog of
Time and the energy of age.
No reverence for the parvenu or the
Rope-climber.
It has often been bleak and cold. . .
Tallow from candles weeps in the vigil
Held between fractured hours and
......
