TRANSCRIPT: THE DARK ANGEL CASE (CLARE LERMAN)

Please read the comments first. 12 23 13

Welcome to my punishment
a sentence
when I longed to
celebrate her
in an epic

Not even the parole
of a first-person elegy
can I anticipate
now that days have passed
since the anniversary
of that stepping out for sugar
in lieu of our last conversation

A year and two days of
fermentation time
has muddled the poetic
corner of my conscience
in a straitjacket glue
of failed circumstance

Time enough for a congeal
fit to shove a clog into
my imaginative capacity

Time enough for a pet name
to suffer the indignant shame
of demotion to a nickname
in the passing over
then the passing on
of its origin

Somewhere between a shared site
and a shared chat room
I became her Dark Angel
It was like an injection of
licorice into my vanilla gut
not into my vein
I cannot allow a metaphor
of such sharp steel to circulate
its sour serum into a memorial
already compromised

I cannot subject my vein
to degredation at the hand of
a seemingly insipid
little vowel

Because vain is how I feel

Undeserving of that
no-sugar-needed-I'm-sweet-enough
standby that somehow
a Dark Angel once merited

Then there was that trip
to the store
that would render me forever
sour in proportion to the truly
sweet half of what is now
a haunted friendship

A pair of coffee-soaked days
drowned the past reminders of
a weak heart
even in the saturnine simplicity
of her last message

I'm home
but not for long
I'm afraid

A routine appointment
I concluded through my
saccharine-fated sips of coffee

I'm home
but not for long...
bore the innocent inkling
of her treatments

...I'm afraid

I'm afraid I'm out of sugar
I replied
Ten minutes and you'll have
my interest to yourself

A pair of coffee-soaked days
deservedly denied me
a pair of standard slumbers

A stupor was all that remained
to awake when her son usurped
her message thread

A Boxing Day burial
was decorated with
a necklace and the ashes of
her two deceased dogs

From the first time
I took my automatic processes
to the disposition circus of caffeine
I had whipped my sugar into
every little whirlpool of coffee
clockwise

Every year within the week
that would epitomize
her sweetest sleep
I'd devote my yearly sigh
to Alistair Sim's plea to sister Fan
to forgive him

In the years and the scenes to come
I'll leave the room to fill my cup
and stir my coffee
counter-clockwise

Author's Note

I've devoted an hour to the comments, and have accidentally deleted them both times. This should give you some inkling as to how I'm doing. I'll return to them later. For now, let me just say that I miss my friends dearly and will be back into the swing of things as soon as the holidays die down a bit. This and the previous posted piece, aside from my Dad's eulogy, are the two most difficult things I've ever had to write in my life. They are each dedicated to one person; one - the subject of this piece - is no longer with me. The subject of the other is alive but not well, and is in a place that I cannot access. Sorry I had to bombard you with such dour writing at a time when it seems like most of my friends are writing positive stuff. I'll be back to respond to messages and read everyone's work before you know it. To my friends, I miss you more than you know. I'll be back in action before you know it :)

(By the way, my messaging system has been glitching out and I'm not seeing everyone's complete messages. I believe most of you have my e-mail though. But like I said, I'll be back in action soon :))

Reviews

[Angel]

There are no words...
You know, when my son died, I was told that I would resent people telling me "I understand how you feel"...because nobody can really understand that kind of grief.
But I really didn't resent it at all...in fact, they gave me something that I needed.
Maybe they really didn't understand my grief...like that other bereft parent had told me, nobody can really understand that...it's pretty intense, and very personal...quite beyond understanding...
Maybe it was just the love that emanated from their heart to mine that helped to comfort me.

[kublakhan27]

I know just where you are coming from my friend. It's true that the circumstances surrounding everybody's grief are different, but I've never resented people telling me that they know how they feel. There are few things in the world that truly bind everyone together, but one of them is the reality of losing loved ones, often before their time. But there is comfort for me in being told that I'm not alone, nor are you. So glad that this one resonated with you being the personal piece that it is...thank you Angel.

[Angel]

You are very welcome, my friend...and my prayers are with you

[TL Boehm]

I have no words. I don't know. I hope you aren't in this place now, but there are times when every loss I've had comes back with vicious clarity and it isn't years but seconds since it happened. This was a powerful write.

[kublakhan27]

No, I'm better now, but Christmas will certainly never be the same...as much as I try to enjoy that time, these memories will always haunt me when I get to that time of year...so glad that this one spoke to you.

[MsJewel]

There is no doubt in my mind this is a true story. I could feel the pain in your words. This is one of those poems that does more than pull on heartstrings..it curls right up in your heart and stays there.

Hugs, Julie

[kublakhan27]

It is all too true my friend. This was not an easy write...it may have been the most difficult thing I've ever had to write. I'm glad that you were able to feel that emotion. Thank you Julie :)

[MsJewel]

You are very welcome my friend :)

[Pryde Foltz]

Time enough for a pet name
to suffer the indignant shame
of demotion to a nickname
in the passing over
then the passing on
of its origin

Most excellent short-story of a poem. I loved every stanza of it.

[kublakhan27]

Thanks so much Pryde, I'm glad you enjoyed this one so much...it may be the most personal thing I've ever written.

[Pryde Foltz]

Truth never disappoints.

[Rita L. Sev]

There are so many references in this that grab my heart, Steve. Recalling a last conversation with a dear friend, nicknames and inside jokes, anniversaries of the void... You bring us into this place with you, invite the reader to see the simple ways this friendship was so special... and sweet.

[kublakhan27]

Thank you Rita, I'm so glad I was able to move you to this extent with this piece. It's probably the most difficult thing I've ever had to write. It was a special friendship indeed...I've never been the same without it. Even though it's so heavily autobiographical, I hope everyone can find their own personal memories within it.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

I have lost some very close people...and sometimes the words get jammed up when I try to write about them...everything I write just seems too lame...

not good enough for them...I feel inadequate...you write these feelings so well in this piece...wanting to pay proper homage...but almost unable to get the best words down on paper.

[kublakhan27]

I know just how you feel my friend,and I think we all feel this way under these circumstances. I agonized over this piece more than anyone will ever know. I started and restarted it multiple times going back to late November, before finally settling for this version. And even looking back on this version, I have that inadequate feeling. I still don't feel as though I told the story properly. I suppose a writer must shelve his own reservations towards such pieces, as we're inevitably our harshest critics and will never be satisfied with such intense confessionals. It means a lot to know I was able to achieve this level of emotional effect though...it's the only gauge I really have for knowing how effective an elegy this is. Thank you Jacob.

[Kenneth The Poet]

This is a beautiful write. Dark or not, I am not sure but I can tell this is painful write. The final stanza says that for me. Strong, powerful set of words.

Nice work.

[kublakhan27]

Thanks very much Kenneth, I'm glad you enjoyed this one...obviously it's a personal piece so I'm thankful that it's been well-received and understood.

[icelandicblue]

I found the sugar throughout the poem to be intriguing. At times it was sweet but then I watched it ferment and turn but the sugar was important and real, not artificial. There is such sadness in this piece. The Dark Angel feels like a solitary being only able to make any connection from a distance where fear fills the air and memories dance a disjointed waltz over sugar spilled and opportunities lost. This poem feels very heavy and extremely sad.

[kublakhan27]

It is sad because it's true my friend. It's all true. Nothing has been sensationalized or over-dramatized for poetic purposes. I'm the Dark Angel, it's what she used to call me. Sugar is what I went to the store to get when I'm virtually positive that she was trying to say goodbye to me. I knew about her weak heart, and that she got regular treatments for it, but she never left a message like that before. I'm an extremely sensitive person who tends to read into everything a person says to me, whether there's something to read or not, and I can't understand for the life of me why I didn't get the hint. It weighs heavy on my mind and always will, but especially so this year because this week marks the first anniversary of those events. But regardless of whether or not the background is known, I'm just thankful that you found the emotion in this piece, because it's arguably the hardest thing I've ever had to write. Thank you as always for taking the time to read and contemplate my words.