Triptych

Gold cherry
Poem of the week

By Kilb50

Mon, 27 Feb 2023
  • 2694 reads
18 comments
 

1.

 

 

We live among shadows

the colour of despair.

 

They inhabit a past

abandoned too soon.

 

A cold-hearted playground -

we were taken there

 

to explore uncertain secrets

beneath a waning moon.

 

The moon glistened

like a brooch of regret

 

a trinket, pinned tight against

an old coat's wide lapel –

 

the kind my great aunt wore

as she walked these city streets,

 

adhering to the invisible wealth

of God, church, heaven, hell

 

and other superstitions

recited on days of prayer

 

to the dull refrain of

a cracked Roman bell.

 

 

 

2.

 

 

We cleared her house

of memory – its crucifix,

 

brass, altar-crystal - filled

a crate or three with the stuff.

 

The sideboard that stood

beneath a picture of her saviour

 

(healing the blind, prostrate in Jericho)

we struggled to move it.

 

It was as if she had taken

its form, eager to remain

 

refusing to vacate, her

spirit frightened before

 

the eyes of the Lord. It made

me sad. All that was in her,

 

would it now infect me ?

The long years ahead,

 

an unwieldly sea.

The disbelieving nomad

 

within spat three times

at the thought.

 

 

 

3.

 

 

To dream is to live.

To live is to swim

 

in a river of dreams.

I caught a train and made

 

my escape beyond

the city’s boundaries,

 

beyond the streams

and hedges of countryside,

 

beyond the disjointed

shape of my life.

 

Flight cleanses the soul;

emptiness is encouragement

 

when faith intervenes.

And faith arrived

 

in its most natural form.

It spoke the language

 

of thunder and rain.

The churning clouds

 

turned blue and black.

The north wind shook me

 

until I lay in bewilderment

at what I had become.

 

The rock face became

my confessor.

 

Water became my crystal.

Earth became my altar.

 

The lizards and birds

and life-pulse of all things

 

rooted me like my

great aunt’s sideboard

 

to where I wanted to be.

And when the sun broke

 

cover, illuminating

the world in a clearer

 

light, all my fears

were left undone.

Certificate 15
Poem

Comments

Submitted by Rhiannonw on

Interesting to put the three pictures.

So-limited symbols of 'faith' can just distract and irritate.

Peace to be alone in creation can clear the mind to realise and think of the unkown realiites, and its Source and Maker;

But we do need the even clearer truth he spoke, and in his Word. Rhiannon

 

Submitted by Kilb50 on

Thanks for reading & your comment Rhiannon. This was written a while ago, after an extended stay in Japan. I was very taken with Shintoism, which is grounded in worship of the natural world. I've always struggled with Western traditions of faith - the 'Word' seems to hinder rather than facilitate faith, for me at least. I guess that's what I'm trying to express in my poem. All best wishes to you.

 

Submitted by celticman on

alter or altar, all of humanity is in flux. 

 

Submitted by Kilb50 on

Ah, well spotted! My proof reading seems to be in flux! And a good win for the hoops yesterday. Watch out for Beale though. Highly regarded when he was at Villa. I think he'll come good! All the best to you.

 

Submitted by lenchenelf on

of attachment and imbued meaning in cherished "stuff" and that of personal freedom in that which is free of ritual meaning nicely done.

"It was as if she had taken

its form, eager to remain

 

refusing to vacate, her

spirit frightened before

 

the eyes of the Lord. It made

me sad. All that was in her,

 

would it now infect me ?"

Best as always

Lena x

 

Submitted by Kilb50 on

Thanks as always Lena for reading & your comment. Best wishes to you.

 

Submitted by Di_Hard on

I will need to read this again. But it struck lots of chords with me. As a child, remember my Dad inheriting a HUGE sideboard from his Aunt. It needed six strong people to bring into the house and was such dark oak. I felt it didn't want to be in our house, that we were too frivolous. It was the kind of thing you would never ever consider hiding in. Though Dad kept his vast and varied collection of potent brews from around the world in the top, and glasses in a part of the bottom, it was always half empty and I felt it was because of emanating disapproval that it never got full up with stuff like the rest of the house.
You struggle with religion resonated with me, too. I loved the lines "cold-hearted playground / we were taken there" which reminded me so strongly of early school, but guessing refers to either religion or the home of your aunt?
"We cleared her house / of memory" I liked this very much, too
"emptiness is encouragement" which made me think both of the God shaped hole, but also of ground waiting for a seed to fall. And also about decluttering! We inherit stuff, guilt and fear that we carry like sideboards

 

Submitted by Kilb50 on

Thanks as always Di for reading & your comment. Yes, we inherit a lot of stuff, including guilt & fear masquerading as sideboards! (My sideboard appeared years ago in a quite different, non-religious context, but I was determined to use it as a metaphor one day!) Also 'cold-hearted playgrounds' - in the context of the poem, I had Sunday school in mind. So thumbs up for sideboard poetry! The huge, dark oak one from your childhood deserves a poem all to itself! Best wishes to you.

 

Submitted by Mark Burrow on

Read this a few times and enjoyed it more with each reading. This is really well done -- for some reason, it reminded me of Tarkovsky's Andrei Rublev. 

 

Submitted by Kilb50 on

Thanks Mark. Yes, there's definitely a touch of Rublev now you mention it. Any hint of The Smiths ? Been rooting through their back catalogue recently. 

 

Submitted by Mark Burrow on

Haha! Alas, no trace of The Smiths. Meat is Murder has always been my fave album. 

 

Submitted by Mark Burrow on

Cpngrats -- this is our Pick of the Day -- please do share on Facebook, Twitter et al.

 

Submitted by Kilb50 on

Thanks eds for Pick of the Day - appreciated!

 

Submitted by Insertponceyfre... on

oh this is very good - I'm going to have to come back to it on a less fraught day (phone just died) and reread. Very well deserved golden cherries and comments too - I love the metaphor of the sideboard too and might nick it for our Inspiration Point - it's brilliant! Thank you for posting this

 

Submitted by Kilb50 on

Thanks as always insert. And yes, thumbs up for IP sideboard poetry!

 

Submitted by Insertponceyfre... on

This is our Poem of the Week - congratulations!

 

Submitted by Kilb50 on

Thanks eds for Poem of the Week - appreciated!

 

Submitted by Kris on

Carried me in words & vision like a traveler through all 3 parts*

yes