607 – heartbreak (poetry)

Children in the Street, 1915, Edvard Munch


607 - heartbreak

Flames now shape
  a dulled european growth. The sky outlines
 the faintest struggle. Part of it
 is smoke. Part of it
 is memory. 

My mother conjures up a sigh
 for her fifty-seventh summer. She wishes
 for us to be children again, and she regrets
 having demanded so much of us. 

A road narrows along our irises; the limit
 of our youth is a dark echo. We bloomed
 without a bud. We went missing.

We will never be absolved
 of the space we occupied
 of the space we left empty
 of the space we consumed

oh, how dinky flattened dandelions 
	were we. Blank storms
    in a night stalling dreamlessly. 

Published by João-Maria

A tick clinging to the bristles of a purple boar.

44 thoughts on “607 – heartbreak (poetry)

  1. Very touching and relatable, I found myself thinking and relating my feelings to this part especially: “A road narrows along our irises; the limit
    of our youth is a dark echo. We bloomed
    without a bud. We went missing.”

    Liked by 5 people

    1. Thank you so much, Oloriel…
      The line of the budless blooming was the hardest to make up. It’s difficult to express the skipping of a stage of development. Or to speak of youth without its common flair of nostalgia.

      Liked by 2 people

    1. I find it harder and harder to understand my mother. I think she did her best, surely, but it was a hard best for us. Sometimes too hard.
      It’s unimaginably difficult to be a parent, though, and I can’t imagine doing better. I can’t imagine it at all.

      Liked by 2 people

  2. I find myself returning to this poem, moved by how much I relate to it especially in the second and third stanza. You have put it so well, that process of looking back and realizing. To me it truly is a powerful and well penned poem! Your writing is one I really admire!
    Wishing you well always!

    Liked by 3 people

    1. Thank you so much, Nolsen. I read one of your poems the other day and it also surprised me greatly. You write very well, to my standards at least, and I’m happy to be admired by someone such as yourself.
      I’m unsure if I penned the process well, because I’m not the one inside the process, but rather a point of it. It isn’t rare, though, that we feel processes so vividly when we are the objects of the process.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. You are very welcome! your reply left me so encouraged (i was only able to read it as I am in the process of moving),but it has been on my mind all these days and it truly means so much to read that from you. Thank you!

        there is something about the imagery you use and how the stanzas are interwoven that made the poem so immersive. I think indeed, it isn’t rare, how deeply they can be felt.

        Liked by 2 people

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