Some hearts healed

My parents
Both have gone
How grateful I am
For what they gave
Their nurturing, their love

When her beloved passed away
Her life was not the same
Not having him beside her
To talk to, or hold her hand

And we were not to know it
But her time with us was short
It only took forty days
To die from a broken heart

Hard for us to comprehend
So tortuous to see
Her body each day grew weaker
Till she slipped away from family

Our hearts are broken in pieces
As they did, not that long ago
But we know that she is happy now
Back in the arms of her lovey Joe

image

 

Mumma ~ 30.3.1929 – 29.5.2017

Poppa ~ 03.7.1927 – 19.4.2017

It is with great sadness that I let you know, that my darling mum Irene, passed away on the 29th of May. Fighting for almost 19 days, no food, no fluid. Some complications, but under advice, my brother and I made the hardest decision to let nature takes its course.
The thread that holds me together is knowing that both ‘my penguins’ are now in each other’s arms once again, after forty days of being apart.

I stayed in her hospital room, as I did for Pop, for the two and a half weeks, loving her, talking to her, hugging her, kissing her. The last 5 days unresponsive, but I spoke to her continually. My heart tearing in to pieces, with every shallow breath she took.

Now I take the road of grief and it hurts and cuts like a knife, both my parents now gone so soon, too soon.

RIP Muma and Poppa

till I see you again

xx

Sink or swim

image

The stream holds a feather
Fallen from a bird in flight it floats
Her barbs paw gently on the surface
Holding the water that envelops
Watch it as it dips and wanes
Yet she doesn’t fall to the rocks below
Steadfast through the currents, strong again
Light, weightless

A stone we cast, heavy
Will not float
Throw it in
It will drown each time
Most times I am the feather
Buoyant, resilient
Barbs untouched
Not allowing myself to sink
Then there are times
I am that stone

Also for – http://dversepoets.com/ writing on our emotions

Am I anything

Fall_by_janskop

Must I die so I am noticed
my voice inaudible, falling
silent on bustling streets
between steps and open mouths

those that live cast shadows
on walls at close of day
bricks of sunburnt orange
their mortar doesn’t crumble

longing to be heard, for
recognition in your world
for I am weak without
admiration

I drift, staring back
at those who cast a rose into
darkness, now I haunt your
dreams, for you to realise
I existed

©jmtacken 3/4/2014

 

Photo Credit:    http://www.deviantart.com 

Fiction – Not related to me having a small break, I shall be busy again for a few days, working on assessments, but had to write.

Can I  just say thank you to all of you for leaving  such lovely comments on my Muse on Vacation post. That was three days ago, seems like 3 weeks. Appreciate your kindness  and caring.

Communication

surreal_artworks30

Life after death.    In my grief I am shrouded in a dark mist, waiting for the clouds to pass, the storm to abate. Could I hope to speak with you again?  The physical connection lost, the spiritual still alive?

“Can you hear me, our unfinished conversations”?

“Can you see me”?

“Are you now dancing together as you once did, holding hands”?

I sacredly guard your love letters, your words lie between you, as in life, now in death.

I will forever, bridge the gap, holding the lines of communication open, so that you may once again converse.

 

Shared with – http://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2014/03/25/photo-challenge-1

This is what came to me seeing the above photo prompt.

twisted thoughts (Poetry?)

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Knotted ropes ~ ‘pon the deck of what
life is, twisted thoughts not lucid
minds play tricks
I stand at the helm, the craft I steer
a listless fog has descended
blurs the vision, once clear

storms, rough waves and endless seas
darkened horizon enshrouding me
how minds work, on days like these
when others paths seem easy
I take a deep breath, hold tight to the wheel
navigate round the rocks, try to feel

sinking ~ drowning, ‘neath the clouds and
strong winds, lurching, floundering
yet unable to move, caught in the triangle
where ships never leave, hold strong 
ride the tide, hold strong, I repeat
I’ve nowhere to hide

take me out of the squall, let my mind come back
ascend from this darkness, never look back
days when it’s hard, the course too rough
I can’t change my status, I’ve tried hard enough
let me, get to shore, break the cycle I’m in
throw down this anchor ~ let me begin

©jmtacken Feb 2014

More poetry than prose I think – but that’s where I went with this.
I have to admit there are many times when I write, when I worry about how others will react, which at times makes me hesitant to post some of what I do. I am not asking for praise, just letting you know, that I am still learning and have a way to go in my writing. I simply needed to write this. 

A thank you to Michael http://summerstommy.com for his nudge with the above.

Moon (Prose)

blue-moon2

have you seen the moon cry
on a summers night
she weeps her luminous tears
‘cross the darkness

as we sleep, her tears
move oceans, she cannot speak
we cannot ask, we have our own
sadness, cloistered in our world
we think not of others pain

her teardrops from watching
her planet below
her oceans forever rise
though perhaps not as
significant, ours are spilt
too silently, along with hers

©jmtacken Feb 2014

For some reason my IPad decided to publish this (under stars) before I had completed it..so now I try again (under Moon)..sorry.

Chat time – the good the bad and the ugly

Perhaps if it were a full moon last night, I would understand my mood yesterday. Alas it wasn’t, but mood swings strike at even given moment with me. I wonder if others are the same?

I wasn’t prolific in my writing, I thought I would save you all from my moaning and groaning, when there are others far worse off than I.

Last Saturday I took my penguins to a funeral – Catholic ~ one and a half hours of workout, sit,kneel,stand. I am not religious but I stood when was required as I do not mock or disregard other peoples faith.

Pop and mum sat as it was too much for them to stand each time and pop was having a particularly bad day walking and on his legs.

There was one amusing incident, when the priest rang the bells, mum tuttered loudly, I asked what was wrong, she answered someone has their mobile phone on….ok bless.

As I struggled holding mums hand and onto pops walker, so we could walk up the slight incline to see the wife of the deceased (a friend of pops for 40 years) dad started to cry and said ” I’ll be seeing my mate soon” … Yes that started me, so with held back tears I walked them slowly to the car.

During the service which was quite beautiful, the priest read a piece that George (dec) had written for his own eulogy.

He was 88 and had trouble walking, like Pop. He passed in his sleep, may he RIP.

This got me thinking and I asked Pop if he would consider writing something for his Eulogy, that I could read (if I’m able) he agreed and now has written over 1000 words about his life. He acknowledges that it needs to be ‘culled’ edited, but he wants to write it and I am so very proud of him. Who better to write about their life than the person I ask.

I conducted my 1st burial last Wednesday in 40c heat, it wasn’t pleasant, but the family were lovely and invited me back for refreshments and got a chair for me and drinks and sandwiches.

6 children in the family, 19 grandchildren and 29 great grandchildren, who let balloons off at the burial site. Despite the horrific conditions, it was beautiful to witness.

I received a call after I wrote my 2 pieces yesterday and I have another burial next Wednesday, this will be my 8th. A disabled man who passed at the age of 48. To get to know the family’s, their story, their lives, is what makes this calling so worthwhile to me.

So in finishing my chat today, thank you for bearing with me yesterday, for putting up with this Aussie who can be very melancholy one minute and high as a kite the next.

I will get there, I know I will, especially with the support and love of those who continue to read me and I thank each and everyone of you for your kindness, encouragement and unwavering support.

It truly means a lot to me, you are not just readers in different parts of the world, you are my neighbours, my friends, my confidants and you get me through the good the bad and the ugly.

Know that if you need me, I am here for you too, in whatever capacity I can be.

Thank you my virtual friends and those I have met in person ~ I think the world of you and love you.

xxx

asylum (Prose)

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imprisoned, boundaries held strong
I was weak
or so they said
a past i can’t forget
I walked these halls
once

I crave the life
the taste of chocolate on my tongue
cloistered in a world I wanted
not one they thought I needed

shackled to ensure complacency
battling inner thoughts
succumbing to taunts
of those who glared and sat alone

my every move watched
‘guards’ patrolled the halls in pairs
tormenting
noses turned down to the likes of us
uncaring

despondent
I knew who I was, yet did not
tears spilt on linoleum
nails scratched walls
digging deep
willing my escape

waiting for release
“God I screamed if you exist”
how much can I stand
cease the pain inflicted

rubber forced into my mouth
volts that surged, my body jolts
left in comatose like state
passages of time not clear

save me
let me breathe
vacant eyes
no one visits
abandoned
enslaved to persecution

pushed shoved at their discretion
my footsteps slow
across the floor
jacket buckled at the back
give me courage

I tried
I did
succumbed to those
who forced the pills
they killed me in the end
inside unhallowed corridors

©JMTacken jan 2014

Shared with http://mindlovemisery.wordpress.com  Prompt 39 – Unwanted Reality

 

This piece was produced with the help of Brian Miller who runs in conjunction with others Dverse. Thank you Brian for your guidance, support and encouragement.

Borrowed Heart (Prose)

brushing the floral curtain with the back of my hand

watching you walk away, your back to me

[youtube.com/watch?v=epUOoPuiyZM]

your jacket slung casually over your shoulder

nonchalant, as was our time this afternoon

dust not settling, words still echoing through the room

hitting the ground before they have the chance

to touch my heart

I watched, you didn’t wave,  you never do

if silence the only noise

I’d clasp my hands falling to the ground, wishing

for more stolen moments, but your words

slowly rise as they have done many times before

lingering inside my head, entering my skin

the amount you stay much shorter than your goodbyes

a heart that won’t be captured, the bird whose flight is free

watching the car door open,  not looking back

the curtain once again falls back in place

as if nothing had changed, simply how it was between you and I

a rendezvous informal, nothing altered

my finger tracing my lips, where you were

once again, you have borrowed my heart

and taken it away

with emptiness ~ I wait in hope

that you will walk through my door again

and stay

©jmtacken Dec. 2013

The music clip says in the beginning to close your eyes and listen … don’t close your eyes ~ but do listen.

Crossing the Bridge without you (Prose)

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can I cross the bridge from life to death
when my last breath is drawn
not knowing what's on the other side
can I leave those I love and say goodbye
what thoughts in my last moments
that I have been granted on this earth
stay ~ please let me stay
as my hand is held in yours

I don't think I'm ready, there is so much
I've yet to do, the pain of leaving
~ living without you
is one that I can't fathom, there's so much
more I want to see; the walk across the bridge
is frightening, not knowing where it leads
cry not, once I am gone
as I walk away from you, be strong and
smile at memories ~ the love I have for you

I am being called now
there is no more pain within
my voice is silently swallowed
my breath begins to fade
I'll walk with unsure footsteps
across this bridge to the unknown
and I take my last look at you
my family and my home

How I wish I could wipe your tears
to tell you don't be sad
I want to see your smiling face
now give your Pop his final hug
I'm glad you were my daughter
~ I'll miss you more than you will know
be strong my darling girl
as I cross my bridge alone

©jmtacken Dec 2013  (Fictional)

For Prompt 32 http://mindlovemisery.wordpress.com

I tried not to have an end pattern rhyme, but I simply couldn't..