Too Many Tears (Rondeau II)

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We know a few families who have had their children suddenly snatched from this life.  This poem isn’t about us or anyone imparticular but probably a combination of all.  It is written from an outsider’s perspective looking in.  It is such a devastating situation.  Highly emotional, painful, raw and so awkward for those on the outside to watch all the grief and pain happening.

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Too many Tears

Too many tears from so few eyes

Blue days become their retched skies

Broken lives in huddled weeping

Bellowed cries make restless sleeping

But how each day do they arise?

Will he check out in death’s demise?

As she breaks down without goodbyes?

Watch love’s torment slowly reaping

Too many tears

Packaged attempts to sympathise

Plainly will not relieve their cries

Compassion knocks with eyes seeping

“Passing by… how are you keeping?

Please carry on but don’t disguise

Too many tears”

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Want you near (To Isaiah)

It is almost two years since Isaiah died.  I wrote a fair bit to process the pain and grief.  There are some disjointed thoughts in the poem I see now but I remember it helped at the time.  Especially the dig at people who avoid the subject.  Please ask your friends about their lost loved ones… it shows you care.

by Andrew Phillips (December 2007)

 

Were they surprised?

When you arrived

As we contrived

To bring you back alive

 

My world is broken

My son was taken

The population count mistaken

I’m left among those forsaken

 

People try to say in kindness

‘He is with the Heavenly Highness’

Is this supposed to help us pine-less

Still at least they speak, more than the spineless

 

My grief does not resemble fear

I cry because I want you near

Wanted to grow and help each year

Well past the day we share a beer

 

A wise man stated to me in fairness

‘It is OK to be a mess

Even Jesus cried for Lazarus

While knowing He would wake his rest’

  

Copyright © Andrew Phillips 2007

Watch Him Love Her (Rondeau III)

This is my third Rondeau in my recent attempt to focus on the fixed (traditional) forms of poetry.   A metaphor.

Watch him love her without return

Shifting curtains eye his lantern

As his shadow fingers the night

Hears a stumble – see his delight!

Picks bundled love off crumpled fern

He appears to be eastern

She from west, his bride so stubborn

Self righteous, petty, picks a fight

Watch him love her

He never seems to show concern

Just loves and so arms tied they turn

Tomorrow is far from tonight

She will again ‘It isn’t right’

But through his heart of love to burn

Watch him love her

Copyright © Andrew Phillips 2009

The rondeau is a form of verse used in English language poetry. It makes use of refrains, repeated according to a certain stylized pattern. It was customarily regarded as a challenge to arrange for these refrains to contribute to the meaning of the poem in as succinct and poignant a manner as possible. The rondeau consists of thirteen lines of eight syllables, plus two refrains (which are half lines, each of four syllables), employing, altogether, only three rhymes. It has three stanzas and its rhyme scheme is as follows: (1) A A B B A (2) A A B with refrain: C (3) A A B B A with concluding refrain C. The refrain must be identical with the beginning of the first line.

Worry

Write thy worries upon black board List them, each one, bring them forw’d Let each stand out, give each time Give each moments of your mind But… Do not think there for too long Move on, look past, though’ t may feel wrong Take the duster in thy hand Wipe it clean like tide washed sand

A limerick

There was a week when Jonah filled the atmosphere with his particularly putrid brand about every 5 minutes.  I just had to find a funny side…

There was a young man named Jonah
Who, considered an excellent donor,
Shared wind from his bottom
Which made the air rotten
So now he lives life as a loner

Copyright © Andrew Phillips 2009 

Arriving Home

Pack Up All My Working World

Turn My Mind Off Business

For Jumping Down The Driveway

Is Jonah – Three – In All Of His-ness

 

“Daddy… Daddy… Daddy… Daddy!”

Voice With Matching Bouncing Bumps

Face Of Happy Cherried Fun And

Danced With Bubbled Jumps

 

Copyright © Andrew Phillips 2009

Find a space.

To all the mums – you deserve to find a moment of peace at least once a day.  You are all amazing.  May you find a space…

 

Find a space.

Upon a rock.

Against a tree.

Beneath your noisy children three.

 

Ignore your ears.

And all the voices.

For just a moment, shut off your mind.

Pull your eyelids low, unwind.

 

And even if you cannot spare

Some momentary silence

Even if you are not able

With all your work and kids and the breakfast table.

Keep going with your daily chores.

And inside your precious heart…

… Just sit.

       …And listen.

                To the lover of your soul.

 

Copyright © Andrew Phillips 2009