Maureen Hynes
@skyloverpoetry |
Poison doesn’t kill
you overnight
when you sip it slowly –
you forget the sting
of a bee
on the back of your hand
and marvel, instead
at its lightness of being –
you shed tears
for eulogies of strangers
merely half a cup of grief –
forget to mop the saltwater
bonfire of your own
unswallowed fears –
This poem is in part inspired by the title of Milan Kundera's post-modern novel, The Unbearable Lightness of Being, and in part by the photograph, entitled Still Life (1908) by Adolf de Meyer.
I have also used a selection of 5 words from the poem, The Horses, the Sorrow, the Umbilicus by Maureen Hynes and featured in Sherry's Wordy Thursday
I am posting selected poems on Instagram, so please follow me HERE.
For Friday Flash 55 Fans:
If anyone would like to share their 55-er this weekend, please leave a link in the comments below. Let's have a Kick-Ass Weekend.
For good measure, a reading.
This is magnificent, Kerry. So true, our tears flow freely for others, while we stuff our own grief down. I certainly have. I especially love the forgetting of the bee's sting, as we marvel at its lightness of being. This was a joy to read.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Sherry. I never know what will happen when I begin to write from a selection of words. This quite surprised me.
DeleteI love the forgetting of the sting. Poison doesn’t kill
ReplyDeleteyou overnight when you sip it slowly – Wow. These are incredible words. It is true. How often we sip poison and forget to mourn for ourselves. We should marvel at our own lightness of being instead of forgetting to mourn for ourselves.
Sometimes we get things all muddled up! thanks, Toni.
DeleteOh, we are good at deceiving ourselves in such a manner or perhaps it is a certain defense mechanism too. Would an acknowledgment that it is grief actually kill us?
ReplyDeleteSuch a fresh take on a wonderfully evocative feeling/human condition. And yes, this unbearable lightness of being is resonant in your words. Some beautiful penmanship. :-)
-HA
So will I die then in the morning? I'd much rather just sleep and never wake up. Mix it with booze (not for me) and party till you drop? I like the
ReplyDelete"shed(ing) tears
for eulogies of strangers
merely half a cup of grief."
Only during Mom's eulogy did I shed tears, no stranger ever entered my mind. New experiences are a major part of your poem. I liked reading it.
..
It has been said that fear is a man's best friend. It certainly is a constant one.
ReplyDeletemy 55
ReplyDeletehttp://fireblossom-wordgarden.blogspot.com/2018/08/sound-isnt-what-you-think.html
Thanks for sharing, Shay.
Deleteforget to mop the saltwater
ReplyDeletebonfire of your own
unswallowed fears –
Great piece of writing here Kerry! Fear results in revealing much of the person in the end!
Hank
Synecdoche is perhaps the heart's strongest defense, to focus on a small thing out there in order to wall in "the mop of saltwater / bonfire" within. It's why metaphor burns brighter than the thing itself--the thing for which there are no words. Kicked my weekend's ass ... My 55:
ReplyDeletehttps://blueoran.wordpress.com/2018/08/11/already-dead/
It seems to be a thing, these days, to distance oneself from the world - it is a hard-hearted place for emotional beings.
DeleteThanks for sharing your 55-er, B.
That first line break floors me. I imagine a semicolon, and "overnight" as a verb. Basically you're saying, "Try to do me in; I'm not afraid." You know me, making the whole thing sexual. :P
ReplyDeleteI feel like the speaker is with a man who proclaims he is poison, but then she shows him what real poison is. At the end, I think the tears are his.
Ah, that's lovely, Shawna.. You overnight.. That adds much to the meaning. I often wish I could read words the way you do, with all possible meanings layered over one another. (PS. Everything is sexual, isn't it?) Somebody's gonna be cryin' but it ain't me!
ReplyDelete;-)
LOL ... You right, girl. ;)
DeleteGood heavens, the way you read is delicious.
ReplyDeleteP.S. I love the way your upslash t-crosses create visual art to complement your word art. (I love your Instagram.)
ReplyDeleteI have terrible handwriting, so this takes some concentration on my part. I often forget to cross my Fs and Ts.
Deletesaltwater bonfire has such a lovely ring
ReplyDeleteI'm glad you stopped by.. always love to hear your thoughts.
Delete'forget to mop the saltwater
ReplyDeletebonfire of your own
unswallowed fears –'
This is one of many brilliant phrases of this poem. Excellent, Kerry!
Thank you, Sara. I tried to get a contrast going in there.
Delete