Tag Archives: Grief

TATI’s & TONY’s DEAD POET TOUR // A Dirge. by Christina Georgina Rossetti

Why were you born when the snow was falling?
You should have come to the cuckoo’s calling,
Or when grapes are green in the cluster,
Or, at least, when lithe swallows muster
For their far off flying
From summer dying.

Why did you die when the lambs were cropping?
You should have died at the apples’ dropping,
When the grasshopper comes to trouble,
And the wheat-fields are sodden stubble,
And all winds go sighing
For sweet things dying.

by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI (1830-1894)
Public Domain Poetry

let it rain

have you dared to declaim with your true face
have you seen how they inward flinch
have they made a monster of the hole in you

have you longed for truest validation
have their eyes doth pummelled your face to tears
have you hidden your tears under veil of rain

if only this was a happy song
if only we could fill our lungs again
if only for the air ‘tween the drops of rain

have you pulled truer weeds from the broken earth
have you doth counted and more so for praying
have you monstered after the four-leaf clover

have you truly known that you never belonged here
have you paid your respects to friend grief again
have you layed yourself down in the face of pain

if only this was a happy song
if only we could feel our lungs again
if only for the air ‘tween the drops of pain

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2022

eidolon (we)

and so do we all decant
all along our silent roads
incant in silent refrain:

‘when the book of breathing is closed
when the clocks are covered in the town of lazarus
when the faience of minds has declined to the last’

in that final silence that befalls us all
will the ghost of you remember me
and gather up the ghost in me
will you lovingly take the ashes and bone
and carry me home

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2020

eidolon (he)

this is the forgotten road
a funnel for the words we could never say
but should have
where his pain keeps step with the ghost of me
to this very day

of all the memories that could have been taken
what is the use of this last one
the one that was left behind
took on a life of its own
and with it has taken his own

i have wept in secret
through weather properly clement or not
and long after my heart had stopped
when i tried no longer to claw through earth
to claim again my former resplendence

the bones of me in this burial mound
the ghost of me in his room again
his bereavement heartfelt vain
one could pain to refill with hope
but his is a barrowman’s chore
and the husk that lingers
mere baggage for the day

and as much as the life not owned
was the purpose not sown
i still pine for that which was human
aimless and pointless tho’ we were
our lungs in chorus were a blessing

his pain keeps step with the ghost of me
silent words for a silent road
and when we think nobody is looking
leaning into myth to light our way
but is it okay that we inevitably fall

we have wept in secret
through weather properly clement or not
and long after his heart has stopped
when he tries no longer to claw through earth
will we meet again in former resplendence

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2020