Foundered – dVerse Poetics


My encasement has shattered.

The ice shower sprinkle

doesn’t register at first,

merely tickling my eardrums with fairy sparkle.

But then millions of shards dagger the ground

exploding, pounding the back of my eyeballs

as the pressure wave roils and rolls towards me –

a tsunami.

My protective, self-mandated tomb is shattered

and my soul bleeds, splattering the earth

as fat raindrops in the tail-end of a summer storm.

I have been breached.


A deceptively tough write this week on dVerse Poetics, hosted by Walt… what does love sound like? It can be any kind of love, but the sound? Wow! I’m in reflective mood (so often the case!), and am thinking about my dad, as time continues to pass and I see him in a different light.

This is a little informed by the tidal wave of feelings that washed over me during his short illness and funeral, and the immediate aftermath. I can write differently now. I can confess to the depths of my feelings, without bitterness. It’s a release.

Please do head on over to dVerse to read other entries – there is bound to be a cacophony!

43 thoughts on “Foundered – dVerse Poetics

  1. The jaggedness and sharpness of this poem reminded me of the pain – it was five years ago and I still feel so raw. You have my deepest sympathy, Freya.

  2. Love and Grief..
    dueling banjos Oak
    of relief.. memories..
    emoTions rePressed..
    poEtry unrings trees of
    heArt cut dOwn in stumps..
    oF old.. oh.. to SinG iT out
    all oF iT.. is to comE toGEThER
    aGain whole as love SinGs more A
    sound of love is simple.. A Song of
    life’s releaf
    and reLease..
    Oak of LiFe Strong LovE..:)

  3. When I read “foundered”, I thought it’d be sinking into the depths of despair. But no. Your words surfaced from the roils and rolls of life. This one’s a beautiful release. ❤

  4. I admire your bluntness in this poem…the stark exciting and fun aspect of love by using sound ..and the opposite take of broken and hurting. Excellent write.

  5. This image………your words. The explosion of grief that attacks us — shards….splatter…shatter…tsunami Your description is gripping.

  6. the living are often left entombed – your “self-mandated” was particularly touching and I loved all the shattering breakthroughs in this poem

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