Sunday, July 28, 2013

Morning Theft



Morning Theft
By
Lisa A.Williams
(Jeff Buckley Prompt 14)


Ungrateful
we close the space
where time heals the wound.

Chasm deep-
we feed on that sorrow
beneath the stolen morning mist
we try to wipe from each others eyes.

We send it to the depths
where shipwrecked
it lies on a floor of sinking sand,
anchored by the heaviness of our
theft of a newborn day.

26 comments:

  1. This is so heavy, feels like drowning, suffocation, survival-based existence. Powerful Lisa wow!

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    1. Thank you so much, such an honor coming from one of my favorite poets.

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  2. The sadness is threaded through your poem like fine silk.
    So beautifully human.

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  3. "Chasm deep, we feed on that sorrow".....powerful image the "theft" of the morning. Wowzers!

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  4. At first I thought the last line read theft of a newborn baby... still very sad. I like the idea of sorrow as shipwrecked.

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  5. Ungrateful
    we close the space
    where time heals the wound.

    like this Lisa powerful indeed

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  6. I feel the depth of your emotions ~ This is heavy Lisa and I hope you find your peace ~ Cheers for a wonderful week ahead ~

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    1. Thank you, hope you have a wonderful week as well.

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  7. How time just flies and one is all the more poorer for letting it go! Happens all the time! Sad! Nicely Lisa!

    Hank

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  8. strange but it's true,
    cause it often happens,
    you try and comfort it
    and the hurt deepens.

    Very true,we seldom give the hurt space to heal...very poignant.

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  9. Such melancholy in this...healing can take such a long time...

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  10. This is very moving. I felt the depth of emotion keenly... and the despair at the end. So sad but well expressed!

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  11. So melancholy and evocative.

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  12. Whew...this is so felt, so deep and so achingly good. I love your writing Lisa.

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  13. "We close the space where time heals the wound..." Sometimes, we sort of wallow in it, the pain, the loss. Sometimes, we cannot bear to look at the wound in the first place.

    This poem packed a punch, Lisa; it reminded me of the years I struggled to understand that incest by way of my father was not my fault. A heavy abyss of a poem, yet so moving. Amy

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    1. Some things are so painful, it takes years to come to terms with them. Thank you for your comment, all the best.

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  14. Ungrateful
    we close the space
    where time heals the wound.

    Chasm deep-
    we feed on that sorrow

    You've uncovered a deep truth here. We may need to be reminded of sorrow in order to experience its opposite, joy.

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