Song for Simon
No more
Wood pigeons cooing
Morse coded messages
From the ridge tiles
Nor painted ladies
Shimmying through open windows -
Fluttering like tiny Bhutanese prayer flags
No more the dark two a.m.
Wondering who I am
Recalling paths unfollowed,
Regrets twinkling
Like distant stars.
No more struggling for breath
Or cowering in the shade of death.
It’s over.
No more plans
And no more schemes,
No more
Elusive butterfly dreams.
Your words are destined to stay unsaid
Now that you have joined the dead.
No more…
No more.
That's incredibly sad, YP. Even more so when accompanied by that very poignant photograph.
ReplyDeleteI appreciate your kind comment JayCee.
DeleteYou capture the essence of life and indeed of existential angst in a few lines.
ReplyDeleteI look forward to hearing some favourite stories of Simon. When the time is right.
He was not the easiest brother to have Kylie but I stuck with him.
DeleteA very good and sad poem for your brother YP. I hope you read it at the funeral service.
ReplyDeleteI might do but of course it will all be about him. I guess that I will be delivering the eulogy.
DeleteThat is a beautiful, bittersweet, poem Neil. I am thankful Simon's suffering has ended.
ReplyDeleteAnd so am I. There's a sense of relief now.
DeleteWhat a beautiful child Simon was. Your poem is a sad and lovely tribute.
ReplyDeleteThank you for reading it Mary. I have always loved that picture of him - in the days of his innocence.
DeleteSuch heartfelt words for a dear brother.
ReplyDeleteI am not so sure about the adjective "dear" Carol but I guess he could not help who he was. He didn't choose his character.
DeletePerhaps lost soul would be a more fitting description than dear brother?
DeleteThat photo is delightful. It captures the childhood joy most of us remember. It makes me want to reach out and cuddle that sweet little boy although I'm sure he'd push me away...too many bad guys to shoot.
ReplyDeleteHa-ha! Thanks Melinda. Too many bad guys indeed.
DeleteI'm sorry for your loss, YP. Your poem is a poignant description of his life at the end.
ReplyDeleteThank you Steve. Much appreciated.
DeleteA beautiful poem and a delightful photograph.
ReplyDeleteYou can stand tall. You did your best.
Hope things are too complicated regarding Simon's estate.
Many thanks Christina. His estate will be "too complicated" indeed!
DeleteSorry! Autocorrect has made a fool of me, yet again. Of course I meant "aren't"
DeleteI hope you didn't mind me pointing out the error.
DeleteIt is a beautiful poem, Neil, and truly touching.
ReplyDeleteLike another one of your readers here said, fitting words for his funeral.
I would hesitate to read my own poem because I want the funeral to be all about him Meike.
DeleteWhat a lovely little boy Simon was. I've seen pictures of you as a child and I can see the resemblance here. Your poem is also lovely, and sad. A nice tribute to your brother.
ReplyDeleteGregg wanted me to send along his condolences to you, Neil. I told him about Simon yesterday and how he is finally at peace. Take care.
Thank you Jennifer and thank you Gregg.
Delete*No more the dark two a.m./ Wondering who I am.*
ReplyDeleteAs disturbing as the line about joining the dead : that is how the living perceive it : the recently deceased have joined the long departed.
The photo of the little boy reminded me of Wallace Stevens :
*It is as if we were never children.*
Haggerty
I went to read "Debris of Life and Mind". It is enigmatic.
Delete*Stay here. Speak of familiar things a while.*
DeleteStevens knew that we only escape grief & solipsism by getting out of ourselves, in the company of other people, kindred spirits.
When he had his first stroke Henry James said there was a voice in the room saying *Here it is at last, the distinguished thing.*
Annie Dillard has an online poem about Henry James, *Deathbeds*.
Voetica Poetry Spoken.
Haggerty
I came across it yesterday after learning Simon had gone.
Thanks for sharing. At a time of death, poetry can be a sanctuary even for those who say they "don't like poetry".
Delete*Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay.*
DeleteYouTube: Remember, Christina Rossetti. Read by Mairan O'Hagan.
J.H.
It may sound a bit banal but “ how are you Neil?”
ReplyDeleteSo kind to ask that John. I believe that I am fine and getting on with the funeral arrangements which kept me waiting at the phone all day long. That was quite frustrating and tomorrow morning may be the same.
DeleteI'm so sorry to learn of your brother Simon's death, Neil. I like your poem very much but feel that it may not be appropriate for reading aloud at a funeral. While it is certainly about the finality of death, perhaps that is not the reason people attend funerals. If possible, find any good you can and celebrate that.for friends and relatives that remain. Words to comfort the grieving are always appropriate.
ReplyDeleteDelete this comment if you find it offensive; it is certainly not meant to be.
Bob - I very much appreciate your reflections and I tend to agree with you. Simon had a rather difficult life but he could not help who he was. I feel it is my duty to deliver the eulogy and I will be looking to say nice things about him. The time for lessons is over now.
DeleteFinal words were reluctantly said.
ReplyDeleteMy final words to him were "sweet dreams" but he was beyond his last words when he died.
DeleteHis whole life is now a memory. No longer continuing.
ReplyDeleteThat's true. Only in other people's memories will he endure.
DeleteI like the poem and when you remember him in the service, it is your tribute to him. My first husband said something which I have always kept in mind. "when you die the world ceases to exist." The sentiment is captured in the poem.
ReplyDeleteThe poem is a kind of tribute to him but I do not plan to read it out at the funeral. I will give a light speech, seeking to convey what was good in him.
DeleteThat is beautiful.
ReplyDeleteThat's kind of you to say so River.
Delete