Three Lives

3

THREE LIVES


Inked in the skin a heart, a name,
A memorable year:
Such confidence when we were young,
The words, the numbers clear;
Now we are old, the body shows
A precarious smear.

At least, thank God, the rutting heart
Has left the cradle bare.
The words, the gifts, the promises
Produced no spiffing heir
To seek and find a brave new world
With which they hoped to share.

***

I am surplus. What are you?
A thing to lie around,
Without a name, a use, a point,
Like stone upon the ground.

Or less than stone for stones don't sigh
While switching what for who,
Or turn in such a way to watch
The disappearing blue.

***

Breathing beyond memory
In a space without a sense,
Here, where ever here is,
A weight, a life, a presence.

Reviews

[Lisasview]

Good morning from Spain,
First read of yours and I really did enjoy it. The use of metaphors throughout was wonderful to read and contemplate.
You through in a splatter of rhymes which was an interesting way to structure your poem.
All in all as I said I did enjoy it.
Lisasview

[John]

Thanks Lisa view for all your thoughts.

[Lisasview]

You are most welcome John,
Lisasview

[Coyote Poetry]

The below lines. I feel this way John.
"I am surplus. What are you?
A thing to lie around,
Without a name, a use, a point,
Like stone upon the ground"
I have told people. All of us are replaceable. Powerful and worthwhile thoughts shared in the amazing poetry.
Coyote

[John]

Thanks a lot. Good to hear from you.

[Matthew Kult]

Darkly depressing, poetically creative

Great read

With love,

Matthew

[John]

Many thanks for your thoughts Matthew

[Ken Simm.]

Such a use of language to say more than what is immediately understood. I find this extraordinary. Redolent and full of phrases I wish I had written.

[John]

Thanks Ken for the kind words

[John Alexander McFadyen]

I liked the way you seperated the 'three lives' and gave them each a unique sense of being. The first stanza indeed depicts a time of youth when we are naive and hopeful, the second shows the protagonist as unhappy with their life and the lines "At least, thank God, the rutting heart
Has left the cradle bare." give a punch to this as it is both a statement of relief and also one of emptiness. The final stanza describing death closes the book well.

[John]

Thanks John for your perspective analysis of the poems. I think you are spot on in what you have to say about the sequence.

[Chris Shaw]

When we are young the world is our oyster. I can remember feeling so full of hope and confidence when I finished my education. Then the going gets real and that’s when you really have to grow up.

I am surplus

that is tough to contemplate

That is full of sadness. Life has not given you what you would have wished. I am thankful for what I have got and count my blessings. What I have got is not what I planned but I wouldn’t change it. There has been light and dark.

Wishing the weight of life lifts to bring you some light.

Chris

[John]

Thanks Chris for your comment . Hope I am shedding a little light too.

[emmajoygreen]

have read twice, hoping to find light at the end of the tunnel. Seems that life has been erratic, part pain part doubt.. never a clear sighted depth of emotion: '. I am surplus. What are you? = A thing to lie around, = Without a name, a use, a point, = Like stone upon the ground.' Stone perhaps inferring numbness through hurt or numb indifference. Does these words point at or lead to obscurity, a time when life was prime time but is now nothing to bother about. A sadness of words. Sad as sad can be.

[John]

Thanks. I think the poem now is a bit of an unrelieved pity party and doesn't work because it is so unremittingly gloomy. There always needs to be a little light to balance the darkness. I have tried to make amends in a sequence of poems called A Life.

[John the Baptist]

What I get from this one is a sense of deep sadness. The speaker tells us of a time when hopes were high and the possibility of a child something that could be.That was in the past. Now there seems to be a sense of relief that such a conception never occurred. The last three stanzas are grim, a description of hopelessness, where there is an awareness of "the disappearing blue." Sad that people's lives should come to this.

[John]

Thanks John for taking the time. The miserabilism is balanced somewhat in the sequence called A Life.

[Ken e Bujold]

lovely poem john. especially like the "precarious smear" a fantastic metaphor. as is "a weight, a life, a presence"

[John]

Thanks for your Ken and apologies for a long overdue reply.