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Jeanne`s Translation
Posted: 01 August 2006
Word Count: 46
Summary: In this moment Jeanne died at home in Holland a few years ago, and her partner, her elder brother, her two teenage daughters and I all huddled weeping in a hug while waiting for the doctor to come and certify her body.
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Escaping sudden sickroom sobs
I notice through the pane
A perfect day of bluster
while they cry in vain
Spring gusts thrash the gilded trees
Someone's having fun
Someone’s racing scudding clouds
in the April sun
You must think you're flying
A perfect day for dying.
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Comments by other Members
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 Dele Campbell at 08:17 on 01 August 2006
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Sometimes for the 'biggies' it's easier to focus on just one part of the huge picture, rather than trying to reveal the hugeness of the moment. There’s too much to unravel in all that you feel and endure, and the pain is indescribable while you're in the grip of the paroxysm of grief.
This proximity with my friends passing took me years to get over, and the weeks immediately afterwards had me seeing death masks everywhere I went.
But if we are not to write about what we feel, what are we to write about?
Well done eddieg, after reading ccatherine's and paul's comments I am posting this to show that at one time or another, we've all been there.
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ccatherine at 13:42 on 01 August 2006
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Dele
This is really poignant.
I love the contrast of the sick room and the blustery day where people are unaware. You capture perfectly the concept that death is merely movement to something different as your friend's soul flies. The lightness of this piece, for me, makes it all so much more poignant and the contrast highlights the continuation of life.
I think when we've lost someone we all suddenly feel more vulnerable and see an inevitability.
I have reposted a piece, "Veronica" it's at the bottom because it was originally posted so long ago. I would appreciate it if you could look at it and see what you think.
Thanks
Cathy
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 joanie at 18:10 on 01 August 2006
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Hi Dele. I can really associate with the sentiments here; it's so hard to realise that life goes on!
I just wonder if the rhymes are too restrictive; it's a shame to engineer the words to make them fit a rhyming pattern when they could perhaps speak more effectively without the rhyme.
How about something like:
Escaping sudden sickroom sobs
I notice a perfect day
while they cry.
Spring gusts thrash the trees
while someone's having fun,
racing scudding clouds
in the April sun.
While you fly
it's a perfect day
for dying. |
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That was a very quick thought - not very good - I just love rhyming poems but I think this needs more depth.
Very thought-provoking and beautiful.
joanie
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Dele Campbell at 20:05 on 01 August 2006
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Thank you joanie!
I love what you did with it,; my memory of moment which I tried to capture was a suddden flash of recognition/imagination when I saw her soaring heavenwards through the insanely sunny spring bluster, a moment of near happiness through the pain/pane.
We were so suddenly bereft in our huddle, the doctor just visited half an hour before consoling us that she had about a day left.
Perhaps because the sentiment is still so raw I have to cauterise it with very tidy rhyme!
It's probably a habit of mine.
Dele
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paul53 [for I am he] at 06:19 on 02 August 2006
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My wife's father was in a wheelchair for over fifty years, and when he died she consoled herself with the thought that, wherever he was now, he was upright and running about like a carefree kid.
Poets have no other duty save to be true to themselves, but I always like it when we turn to address/explore the big questions of life, because we are all going to find out what lurks beyond the tenuous veil of life - but not today.
I did have a mini satori the other day. We have a nearby car park that fills to the brim as the bottom half is used for a Boot Sale on a Sunday. I drove across it on a Tuesday morning and the place was deserted, and I imagined doing the same 2 days before when it was a mass of bodies, vehicles and stalls. The place was the same, as was my car and myself. The only difference was time. Perhaps we go on after our tenure here outside of the confines of time. I do hope so, though I still have difficulty thinking of "me" being a particular gender forever, plus retaining all my hurts, faults and foibles.
The main enjoyment of this piece, apart from the subject matter, was the conciseness you have shown here. I stirve for it - and achieve it sometimes - but age seems to take me meandering . . . as this comment shows.
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Dele Campbell at 08:44 on 02 August 2006
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Thank you Paul,for your comment;I'm beginning to see how this poem is the beginning of something much much bigger as I examinre and re-examine the day my friend Jeanne died.
Oddly enough, with all this discussion, the pathos has changed into something incredibly beautiful!
Many thanks, I feel newly healed.
Dele
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o11ie at 13:27 on 02 August 2006
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Hi Dele
I'm not great at giving feedback. But here goes. I found your peom strong and had a lot in it. I liked the contrasts, the inside and the outside. theres alot there it's cool.
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Laura Hunt at 18:10 on 10 August 2006
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Hi Dele,
I appreciated the whimsical rhyming structure - it reminds me of Syd Barrett. Sometimes the big things can only be looked at obliquely.
Sylvia
<Added>
I think that what I mean is that the oblique glance offers different insights...
S
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