I need to hear others talk of him
for him to live again.
His friends proved it 
never mentioning him
in four hours of chatter 
that fell into my heart 
pitiless as stones
thrown into an empty pond.
He is history to them 
and my bitterness
sends me finally to tears.

Unreal birthday, death’s hide-and-seek
and never-find is the only celebration
permitted me.

Absence tracks me to my lair of words.
I look into the dark, see your ghost 
walking across the casement windows
out and back into night.

Felicidades, mijo.

v.3

Sixteen months without a son
has taught me two things.
Death is no accident and 
thought provides no resurrection.
I need to hear others talk of him
for him to live again.
His friends proved it 
never mentioning him
in four hours of chatter 
that fell into my heart 
pitiless as stones
thrown into an empty pond.
He is history to them 
and my bitterness
sends me finally to tears.

Unreal birthday, death’s hide-and-seek
and never-find is the only celebration
permitted me.

Absence tracks me to my lair of words.
I look into the dark, see your ghost 
walking across the casement windows
out and back into night.

Felicidades, mijo.



v. 2
You would have been 29

but death’s hide-and-seek

and never-find took that away.

Your high school friends gathered  

“in remembrance”

and I went, hoping  to see

you again in their words

hearing instead four hours 

of self-absorbed chatter that

fell into my heart pitiless as stones

thrown at a trapped dog.

Baffled, I went home

to sleep in the house where

you died.  Laying in the dark

I imagined your ghost

pass the casement window

out of and back into the night.

Felicidades, mijo.







v.1

Unreal birthday, death’s hide and seek



and never find is the only celebration



permitted me.



Absence tracks me to my lair of words.



I peek out into the dark, imagine your ghost 



walking across the picture windows



out and back into night.



Death is no accident and you don’t come back to life



just because I think about you.



Your friends proved that beyond the reach of my hopes. 



Four hours of chatter,  terroristic talk of the living



falling into my heart pitiless as stones



thrown into an empty pond.



I kept hoping that they would say your name



and you would reappear at least for them.



They never mentioned you.



You are history to them and my bitterness



is the end of their games.

(08-31-2021, 08:44 PM)TranquillityBase Wrote:  Unreal birthday, death’s hide-and-seek
-and-never-find is the only celebration I would hyphen the game
permitted me.
Absence tracks me to my lair of words.
I peek out into the dark, imagine your ghost 
walking across the picture windows ppicture windows seems 'cliche'
out and back into night.
Death is no accident and you don’t come back to life
just because I think about you.
Your friends proved that beyond the reach of my hopes. 
Four hours of chatter,  terroristic talk of the living ii was always told terrorist is cliche under any circumstance
falling into my heart pitiless as stones
thrown into an empty pond. I like the 'skipping' stones image
I kept hoping that they would say your name
and you would reappear at least for them.
They never mentioned you.
You are history to them and my bitterness
is the end of their games. Only one game to celebrate

I like the sentiment, there is mystery, there is emotion, 'unreal birthday' is such a good starter I forgot about it by the end.  Maybe switch the first two words of the poem and the title

'unreal birthday'

In absentia, deaths hide and seek...

Just a suggestion, thanks for sharing!

(09-01-2021, 10:00 AM)CRNDLSM Wrote:  

(08-31-2021, 08:44 PM)TranquillityBase Wrote:  Unreal birthday, death’s hide-and-seek
-and-never-find is the only celebration I would hyphen the game  excellent idea, thanks
permitted me.
Absence tracks me to my lair of words.
I peek out into the dark, imagine your ghost 
walking across the picture windows ppicture windows seems 'cliche'  
out and back into night.
Death is no accident and you don’t come back to life
just because I think about you.
Your friends proved that beyond the reach of my hopes. 
Four hours of chatter,  terroristic talk of the living ii was always told terrorist is cliche under any circumstance   yes, a bit over the top here
falling into my heart pitiless as stones
thrown into an empty pond. I like the 'skipping' stones image
I kept hoping that they would say your name
and you would reappear at least for them.
They never mentioned you.
You are history to them and my bitterness
is the end of their games. Only one game to celebrate     is this a suggested line or a comment? (I think I will steal part of it at least)

I like the sentiment, there is mystery, there is emotion, 'unreal birthday' is such a good starter I forgot about it by the end.  Maybe switch the first two words of the poem and the title

'unreal birthday'

In absentia, deaths hide and seek...

Just a suggestion, thanks for sharing!

Thanks C.,  good suggestions.  this was a first draft.  I also think you've got something there about title.

TqB

Revised, almost a new poem, I was grappling with how to desbribe the event without it becoming a rant.

(08-31-2021, 08:44 PM)TranquillityBase Wrote:  You would have been 29
but death’s hide-and-seek
and never-find took that away.
Your high school friends gathered  
“in remembrance”
and I went, hoping  to see
you again in their words
hearing instead four hours 
of self-absorbed chatter that
fell into my heart pitiless as stones
thrown at a trapped dog.
Baffled, I went home
to sleep in the house where
you died.  Laying in the dark
I imagined your ghost
pass the casement window
out of and back into the night.
Felicidades, mijo.

Unreal birthday, death’s hide and seek

and never find is the only celebration

permitted me.

Absence tracks me to my lair of words.

I peek out into the dark, imagine your ghost 

walking across the picture windows

out and back into night.

Death is no accident and you don’t come back to life

just because I think about you.

Your friends proved that beyond the reach of my hopes. 

Four hours of chatter,  terroristic talk of the living

falling into my heart pitiless as stones

thrown into an empty pond.

I kept hoping that they would say your name

and you would reappear at least for them.

They never mentioned you.

You are history to them and my bitterness

is the end of their games.

The revision is less about you, more about him.
But the original is far more raw and unforgettable. The only drawback - technically speaking - was the use of too many 'you's when simple changes in the sentence construction would have avoided that pitfall.

All of the lines below are sharp as daggers, naked as flames:

Unreal birthday

Absence tracks me to my lair of words.

walking across the picture windows
out and back into night.

Death is no accident and you don’t come back to life

pitiless as stones
thrown into an empty pond.

---

This really shouldn't be in 'Basic', IMO. It sets the bar too high for those for whom Basic is intended.

(09-03-2021, 08:10 PM)busker Wrote:  The revision is less about you, more about him.
But the original is far more raw and unforgettable. The only drawback - technically speaking - was the use of too many 'you's when simple changes in the sentence construction would have avoided that pitfall.

All of the lines below are sharp as daggers, naked as flames:

Unreal birthday

Absence tracks me to my lair of words.

walking across the picture windows
out and back into night.

Death is no accident and you don’t come back to life

pitiless as stones
thrown into an empty pond.

---

This really shouldn't be in 'Basic', IMO. It sets the bar too high for those for whom Basic is intended.

Busker,

Thanks for reading both and for those key lines.  I will take another look at the original.  I set out in revision to make the events more blatant.  Not sure why, but didn't want any mystery about the pain.

TqB

****************************

Actually, having gone back and looked at the original, I do not understand this: The only drawback - technically speaking - was the use of too many 'you's when simple changes in the sentence construction would have avoided that pitfall.

I just don't see how not to use you, profusely.

What I meant about too many “you”s was perhaps:

They never mentioned you.
You are history to them and my bitterness

Should the second “you” follow right after the first, or can it be reworded to avoid that repetition?
Minor quibble

Just commenting on the recent version. I have one straightforward comment for you to consider.

[quote="TranquillityBase" pid='254435' dateline='1630410299']
Sixteen months without a son
has taught me two things.
Death is no accident and 
thought provides no resurrection.
I need to hear others talk of him--For me, this would be the best place to begin your poem. The first four lines feel like the scaffolding that brought you here. I think the poem would be considerably stronger cutting the first four lines and starting with this line.
for him to live again.
His friends proved it 
never mentioning him
in four hours of chatter 
that fell into my heart 
pitiless as stones
thrown into an empty pond.
He is history to them 
and my bitterness
sends me finally to tears.

Unreal birthday, death’s hide-and-seek
and never-find is the only celebration
permitted me.

Absence tracks me to my lair of words.
I look into the dark, see your ghost 
walking across the casement windows
out and back into night.

Felicidades, mijo.


This is a poignant, well thought out poem. I hope the comment helps. If it doesn't please disregard.

Best,

Todd

Thanks Todd and I think it's a great suggestion.  If I've learned anything at Pig Pen, it's to listen.

I rewrote the beginning several times and was never satisfied but for some reason just cutting it eluded me.