irish moss

irish moss

A Poem by charlie


The night air slides in again


full pike and plumb on


the slope. Moorhens screech


in joy, deranged


as demons noosed in rope.


“Go, stretch the rope” at first


the thought protrudes and airs


the sod, but standing on a shoddy spade


he catches on the thought:


and then he lets it go…


He lets it go and stoops to cough:


his ribs they jump, his lungs


expound upon a wasted grace,


and all the more the moorhens


sound against his face.


While from afar through sedge,


through mud, and on the icy twilight


wades one with whom had born his child


three days ago this night.


Though she had breathed her last


back then, her eyes they did not close:


he pressed them down by trembling hand


and locked them with a rose…


 


His ribs they jump, his tears


roll down in spit and sorrow mad.


The night air slides in again


dissolving all the ironclad refineries


of what they’d hoped;


and also, what they had…


He lays the infant low,


just three days past its birth,


and - fever pitch - he damns the stars


and swears a curse into the belly


of the earth and


out into the moorhens’ lea.


     ... ‘til I,


     his neighbour, came to find him


     twisting in a tree.






© 2014 charlie


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Featured Review

This is such a wonderful poem, the timing seems off just a bit in some places (I have trouble with this too)
would suggest -"he damns the stars and the Earth and into it's belly swears a curse" cause that's where I kind of tripped up, and this poem is so incredibly imaginative it just seems to grip one's sense of the morose and shakes like a pit bull.

of interest to me only:
111 Views
5 Reviews
Rating
Shelved in 3 Libraries
Added on June 22, 2014
Last Updated on June 22, 2014


Posted 10 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

charlie

10 Years Ago

Thanks for your suggestion, C. I like the sound of it and will take it on board. Much appreciated.
Corset

10 Years Ago

I'm always unsure if I can make a suggestion without offending, and I hope I didn't because I really.. read more



Reviews

I have not lost a child thank God, or what ever power is in motion.
This poem, I can’t really find the words to explain how I feel about this piece. You’re either writing from experience, or deep empathy.
Either way, incredible!
Thank you for sharing this.
Resa.?

Posted 6 Years Ago


charlie

6 Years Ago

Thank you for taking the time, Resa. It's encouraging.
Impossible to imagine the loss of a child, the gut wrenching sense of rage at the unfairness of such a terrible thing.

Here though, you have captured the essence; 'he damns the stars and swears a curse into the belly of the earth.'

Powerful and compelling poetry.

Beccy.

Posted 6 Years Ago


charlie

6 Years Ago

Thanks for reading, Beccy. Ever ha those occasions where a piece of writing comes streaming in your .. read more
A dark haunting poem that lingers like smoke after its read!

Posted 9 Years Ago


Powerful and haunting images. I particularly like ""His ribs they jump, his tears/ roll down in spit and sorrow mad". beautiful pathos ! Excellent write, Charlie


Posted 9 Years Ago


Your work from the very beginning is an absolute wonder. It is with appreciation and a trip to the outer crags of poetry (that I seldom see--even from the masters) that moves me down even lower on the list of unplanned pretentiousness. Thank you for making this site so much more worth my while than I ever suspected.

(if you ever find the time to look at some of my earlier work here, I would so appreciate it. I could really use your critical guidance if I could so waste a bit of your time.


Posted 9 Years Ago


Wow.... death is so sad yet beautiful.....

Posted 9 Years Ago


charlie

9 Years Ago

and life even more so ...
Layi Tate

9 Years Ago

Agreed... Beautiful piece .
Beautiful, haunting piece. Very well done, sir

Posted 9 Years Ago


This is a classically dark poem which in texture reminds me of Seamus Heaney with its vivid smells and sights

Posted 9 Years Ago


First thoughts after reading the last line: "wow".
Brooding, melancholy, and each line so weighted with feeling that I feel as if I am being lower into the grave myself.
The imagery is like something one would find in a Bronte novel...a comparison I hope is received as the compliment is intended to be.
Excellent write - I look forward to reading more.

Posted 10 Years Ago


charlie

10 Years Ago

Thank you, Vesa. Not familiar with A Bronte novel, but I will take that compliment :)
Each line so full of imagery and passion. Very nicely done!

Posted 10 Years Ago



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1119 Views
16 Reviews
Rating
Shelved in 3 Libraries
Added on June 22, 2014
Last Updated on June 22, 2014

Author

charlie
charlie

Australia



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