Wow, Kerry I don't think I've seen a day referred to in these terms. The personification works splendidly in this funeral piece. May the day rest in peace!
That is quite an epitaph, bringing forth the life of the day and time and its eventual passing — there is something so visceral about "shone too brightly on the flotsam of the wrack without care" — it's a beautifully layered piece. And the death illustration is rocking. :-)
Wonderful artwork. No wonder you keep a journal. I like the personification of the day. I thought immediately of Remembrance Day/Armistice Day. And then my mind raced to the days of all the mass shootings. A wonderfuly layered poem.
These days in the memory of armistice hundred years ago my mind goes back to all the endless stories from Somme and Verdun... I love how you turned the memories to the sense of soil... love the artwork.
with all the other nameless fallen days... that is so heavy and sad..all these futile wars and all that light shining down on the wasted lives..beautifully written Kerry.
You’ve written this poem in such a way, Kerry, that the sun breaks through the lines in different ways: rolling and breaking on the strand, shining too brightly on flotsam, and then recalled as grains that we breathe. A bright epitaph waiting to be interred.
The image - poppies, the gun ... the red tennis shoes! I guess our life isn't just those happy moments but all of the days - Maybe its a good thing the (supposedly) our life flashes (quickly?) before our eyes at death. I have always imagined it isn't God that judges us... we just SEE ourselves clearly - our actions, our choices and WE judge ourselves. But I could be wrong.
Anyway, I adore your penmanship and art. Has made me interested in bettering my handwriting (and then I can actually be brave enough to write in one of Chelsea's journals. As of now, I just hold them :P
There is life in remembrance--painful, heart-ripping, chocking with bones, but life still. So, indeed... we must never stop remembering every "particular grain / we [and those who no longer can] ever breathed of sun".
Wow, Kerry I don't think I've seen a day referred to in these terms. The personification works splendidly in this funeral piece. May the day rest in peace!
ReplyDeletefunereal piece
ReplyDeleteI recently read of those who can remember every detail of every moment of every day of their life. What a gift, and curse, that must be
ReplyDeleteThat is quite an epitaph, bringing forth the life of the day and time and its eventual passing — there is something so visceral about "shone too brightly on the flotsam of the wrack without care" — it's a beautifully layered piece. And the death illustration is rocking. :-)
ReplyDeleteWow...this is an amazing poem Kerry! A day coming to a close, and being remembered as it should. I love your artwork Kerry! You are quite the talent!!
ReplyDeleteWonderful artwork. No wonder you keep a journal. I like the personification of the day. I thought immediately of Remembrance Day/Armistice Day. And then my mind raced to the days of all the mass shootings. A wonderfuly layered poem.
ReplyDeleteThese days in the memory of armistice hundred years ago my mind goes back to all the endless stories from Somme and Verdun... I love how you turned the memories to the sense of soil... love the artwork.
ReplyDeletewith all the other nameless fallen days... that is so heavy and sad..all these futile wars and all that light shining down on the wasted lives..beautifully written Kerry.
ReplyDeleteYou’ve written this poem in such a way, Kerry, that the sun breaks through the lines in different ways: rolling and breaking on the strand, shining too brightly on flotsam, and then recalled as grains that we breathe. A bright epitaph waiting to be interred.
ReplyDeleteI enjoyed reading this poem, and seeing it in your hand.
ReplyDeleteThe image - poppies, the gun ... the red tennis shoes! I guess our life isn't just those happy moments but all of the days - Maybe its a good thing the (supposedly) our life flashes (quickly?) before our eyes at death. I have always imagined it isn't God that judges us... we just SEE ourselves clearly - our actions, our choices and WE judge ourselves. But I could be wrong.
ReplyDeleteAnyway, I adore your penmanship and art. Has made me interested in bettering my handwriting (and then I can actually be brave enough to write in one of Chelsea's journals. As of now, I just hold them :P
There is life in remembrance--painful, heart-ripping, chocking with bones, but life still. So, indeed... we must never stop remembering every "particular grain / we [and those who no longer can] ever breathed of sun".
ReplyDeleteLove those shoes... and blooms.