Tag Death

dVerse Poetics – Blessed

freyathewriter 25 Comments

Image – author’s own

We didn’t know we didn’t want it
Until we’d passed it all around
We didn’t know how to stop it
So many six feet under ground

Our homes they began to empty
Some tried to run far away
The brave ones locked the village down 
Others fell to their knees to pray

The vicar held services in the fields
The church was locked up tight
Still the sickness danced in the air
Giving us death deep in the night

We saw not a soul in fourteen months
Our dead in our gardens now rest
The streets have been emptied of laughter and joy
But we are alive, so we must be blessed

*****

Tonight over on dVerse, Merril is our genial host and has asked to write on the theme of giving. I learned a new thing, that the Tuesday after US Thanksgiving is known as Giving Tuesday when people often donate to charitable organisations and non-profits.

Now… true to type, I have at first sight opted for the giving, or passing around, of something unpleasant – disease. My poem is inspired by the village of Eyam in Derbyshire which was infected by the Great Plague in 1665, after a parcel of infected cloth was delivered from London to the village tailor. Under the leadership of the rector, Reverend William Mompesson and his predecessor, Reverend Thomas Stanley, the village took measures to prevent the plague spreading to the surrounding area and also to limit, where possible, spread of disease within the village.

Of the 800 people living in the village, 260 died. If it hadn’t been for the brave actions the community took, the surrounding areas could have been at least as badly affected as Eyam. This is the real gift behind my poem.

The photo above is a window in the village church, telling the story of Eyam and the Great Plague. If you wold like to know more, please check out the village website here.

If you would like to read more poems on the theme of giving, please hop over to dVerse and enjoy! You could also take part if the mood strikes you!

Murder – dVerse Open Link Night

freyathewriter 32 Comments

Image – author’s own

It descends suddenly, the veil of darkness,
is it not the same for you?
my vitriol rises, my bile erupts, a
conviction of your subhuman, less-than status
that ignites my thirst — 
killing overwhelms me, irresistibly.
under the circumstances, I must be excused (I will not beg),
the nature of the beast wears a
cloak spattered with guts and hatred
of which I have become overly fond — 
war has dehumanised and mechanised me
is it not the same for you?
nothing is beneath me anymore 
but the bones and viscera on which I tread.
an empty shell am I,
act kindly and I will carve a knife-smile in your face,
of course, before I bestow 
murder upon you.

This poem was inspired by the Albert Einstein quote below, each word of which begins each line above.

“It is my conviction that killing under the cloak of war is nothing but an act of murder.”

It was written in response to much that I have learned about the world since I watched “The World at War” with my parents when I was growing up. This 26 episode British TV series, narrated by Laurence Olivier, chronicles the Second World War and is widely acclaimed — the series focuses on how life and death throughout the war years affected members of the armed forces, civilians, concentration camp inmates and other victims of the war. Images from this series have never left me, all these year later.

*******

Tonight is Open Link Night over on dVerse, hosted by the lovely Grace. Tonight there is no theme for us to follow, just write a poem on whatever subject suits our fancy, and submit it for others to read.

There is always something to learn and discover, so why not hop on over to the Open Link Night and read the wonderful poetry that is on offer? Or, if you’re feeling daring, why not take part yourself?

Happy reading!

Back to Basics – dVerse Form for All

freyathewriter 37 Comments

img_1073

Rabbie Burns fell upon his sword they say

But I knew he was pitchforking hay

Literally, I took their words

Because he had only wanted herbs.

 

Herbs to make his food more savoury

For he was sick of bread and gravy

But bread it is the staff of life

Saving the stomach from hungry strife

 

He had eschewed his wife’s basic meal

Then worked on the farm, his void purse to heal

He dropped down dead, empty and vague

All for his obsession with parsley and sage.

 

Oh, Form for All, how I enjoy you! Here’s my thought process.

“Dammit, it’s 8pm (here in the UK), I’ve not long got home from work, I’m tired, I just want to put my feet up… Noo! dVerse! Why do I have to work out how t write a new poetry form? Why isn’t it Open Link Night?… Hmm, I could have some fun with this… Oh! I have an idea…!”

Tonight over on dVerse, Gayle has invited us to write a Clerihew. As Gayle explains ‘A Clerihew is a comic verse on biographical topics consisting of two couplets and a specific rhyming scheme of aabb that was invented by Edmund Clerihew Bentley (1875-1956) at the age of 16.’

I hope you enjoy my attempt – I have no idea where the story came from (not unusual, to be honest)!

Why not have a go yourself? It’s fun!

** Gayle kindly pointed out I forgot to include the name of a famous person in the first line of my poem… So I have used Rabbie Burns, the Scottish poet who was the son of a farmer. Thank you, Gayle!