"O God, I could be bounded in a nut shell and count myself
a king of infinite space,
were it not that I have bad dreams."
Act II scene ii
I don't usually comment on your poems YP so this is a first. I found this one really touching. I think you have captured the situation so well as I would imagine the feelings of the one left behind in a breakup after so many years. Well done.
Wow, powerful stuff Mr YP. No names, no packdrill I suppose?LLX
toucing and poignant
This is particularly poignant for me. Twenty years ago I was divorced from the only woman I ever loved so I can relate to almost everything you said in the poem. I won't talk about any of that because you said it so well. I want to say there is life after. Apparently we humans can heal from any emotional wound, no matter how deep.On an unrelated matter, I did post a comment on your previous blog. Sometimes my computer loses things or perhaps I rambled so much you thought I was drunk and deleted it. If my computer lost it, no worries, I can promise there was nothing profound and likely very little humor either. If you deleted it, no worries about that either, I trust your judgment.
HELEN Thanks for commenting. I have known a few husbands or wives whose spouses simply walked out on them giving no chance for repair or reconciliation. No second chances. The one left behind can be emotionally wrecked or bitter for years.LETTIC LEAF I had never come across that expression before so I researched it -Pack-drill was a punishment given to soldiers in the British Army, requiring them to undertake drill (exercise) in full uniform and carrying a heavy pack.'No names, no pack-drill' is used to indicate that the names of those who have committed a misdemeanor will not be mentioned in order to spare them punishment.The 'pack-drill' punishment is known from at least 1845, when it was referred to in William Maxwell's Hints to a soldier on service:"A full guard house, dozens at pack-drill."GERALD Thanks for dropping by. I am glad that you read and grasped this poem.DAVID OLIVER Sometimes people break legs and have to wear plaster casts. Usually the bones heal. But a broken heart, hidden from onlookers, may take a lifetime of healing. It can be so hard to move on.
Me saying something you haven't heard before..... Amazing BLOODY AMAZING!Still interested as to who though? Although in a way, it would spoil it to know. Little hint maybe?More poems please Mr YP.LLX
LETTICE LEAF I had some dear friends in mind. What has happened remains very raw. You think you know somebody and then out of the blue the shutters come down and a long marriage is suddenly over. I don't wish to say any more about it just now.No names, no pack drill!
Sir YP, I have thought about your poem for days and decided to do a cross post. I don't need to tell you how well you have captured your friend's story. You have already mentioned elsewhere how long it took you to craft this piece. I just borrowed some lyrics.
Mr Pudding welcomes all genuine comments - even those with which he disagrees. However, puerile or abusive comments from anonymous contributors will continue to be given the short shrift they deserve. Any spam comments that get through Google/Blogger defences will also be quickly deleted.