PoetryPix
depictions by the rule of thirds; descriptions mostly freestyle words
All Hallows
“On almost the incendiary eve
Of deaths and entrances,
When near and strange wounded on London’s waves
Have sought your single grave”*
I do not need to seek you out
this soul searching Hallowed night
all too ready-eyed are rememberings
fiery flashbacks come thundering like Valkyrie
over belongings left in plain sight, left behind
within cold coverlets, duck down has settled flat
sheets hang drying with a ghostly stare
and in the top most corner of your room
spiders are threading shut the door
but not for you the Underworld of earth
dust and air and water for an elemental grave
undertow of Thames waves down its Londoners
makes exit at the entrance, past All Hallows, Kent
the church we always meant to visit and never went
For Martin’s requiem and laying of the ashes, I’ve chosen Dylan Thomas’ ‘Deaths and Entrances’* and in the Imaginary Garden, Susie invites us to seek inspiration for our own poetry from a beloved dead poet: “Diá de los Muertos – Bits of Inspiration”
[Read and hear Richard Burton reading “Deaths and Entrances”]
18 Comments on “All Hallows”
My Japanesque Garden
This is poignant and sad – we surely sense the distance our beloved dead have to travel in the things they left behind, in all we meant to do. Will it take every saint in the reliquary to sing them back?
LikeLike
Brendan thank you for your very touching words – that last line epitomises the gulf profoundly
LikeLike
This is raw.. incredibly evocative and fresh with the sense of loss, hurt and tears. I could feel every word and line break of this beautiful poem, Laura.
LikeLiked by 1 person
‘every word and line break ‘ – I like that Sanaa – thank you
LikeLike
Tx
LikeLike
thank you Tish for all that you have left unsaid x
LikeLiked by 1 person
The blending of the tangible and eternal are so well done in this poem. Thinking of you daily, my friend.
LikeLike
you have put your finger right on it Jilly with all your sensitivity – grief lies between these two poles – many thanks
LikeLiked by 1 person
This is so beautiful. While we breathe we walk among our things and grieve for those we can no longer touch. Thank you so much for taking part in the prompt.
LikeLike
the lack of touch is surely the hardest part of all
– thank you for this prompt Susie – Dylan Thomas has been a poet I have turned to this last month and was good to be able to invoke his words as preface
LikeLike
Isn’t it curious that often it is the things we don’t do rather that those we have that trouble us later in life. When someone we love dies a part of us dies as well and we can’t stop remembering life as it was.How touching the last two lines were.
LikeLike
“all those things we have left undone” – fill us up with regret…maybe even fills the empty other half we have lost along with all the good times too
LikeLike
This is so raw and filled with the mood of all saints. The mood of London makes me think of Dickens while the longing for the closeness of a grave is so strong. We all seem to go with Dylan Thomas today.
LikeLike
All Hallows makes me think of Dickens and the opening scene of David Lean’s ‘Great Expectations’ but in fact it was another church on the estuary penninsula – St James, Cooling
LikeLike
I lost a beloved family member last week, your words touched me deeply.
LikeLike
thank you Helen – I am glad the words had meaning for you too – losing loved ones is so bewildering
LikeLike
Richard Burton’s reading is just wonderful – he always did justice to Dylan Thomas’s words. Your poem is a beautiful tribute, Laura, to Martin and to one of my favourite poets. I admit it made me tearful, especially the references to ‘belongings left in plain sight’and ‘duck down has settled flat’. It doesn’t take much, does it? As a born Londoner, with a sister living in Kent, I followed the wistful undertow of Thames to ‘the church we always meant to visit and never went’.
LikeLike
Burton’s rendition is so beautiful and grand. The church at All Hallows on the Hoo Peninsula is now high priority and am happy that almost the last memories of Martin are of a wonderful weeks holiday on the Kent coast at the end of September – As Londoner you will know how much the east born are drawn further east!
LikeLiked by 1 person