Monthly Archives: July 2015

Doesn’t it?

IMG_2161_2_3_4_5I was promised more than this, I’m certain.
Go to church, stay in school, wash behind your ears!
Keep it shut, listen to me, because I said so, that’s why.
But these tropes are all a debtor’s bargain, a fool’s bet—
the carrot and stick that is a spot of ease,
a moment of repose, with years left to fade away—
heart and hope, a hand to hold and no one left wanting.

All the talking, would, I thought, be done by now,
the lessons heard, wisdom learned and pride earned.
I bought it all, I sold it all and am ashamed to say
that I wanted it all. Surely that counts now for something.

 

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Thank you for reading Doesn’t it? I sincerely hope you have enjoyed it and I humbly appreciate your visiting the Book of Pain. As always, I look forward to your comments.

The photograph was taken at Acadia National Park in Maine. To see my photography, please visit the Book of Bokeh blog.

john

Photograph, notes and poem © John Etheridge; all rights reserved. The poem and accompanying notes are licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 Unported License. This applies to all original written work found on this site, unless noted otherwise. The attribution claimed under the license is: © John Etheridge,  https://bookofpain.wordpress.com. The photograph is not licensed for use in any way without the expressed consent of its copyright owner.

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Pain

IMG_1969It’s a strange thing to manage: of you and not, it, itself, an otherness,
living and breathing, in and yet beyond you, insidiously skulking around.
Nerve slasher, I call it. Breath thief, dignity embezzler, hope arsonist.
From your last kiss before sleeping to your first caress when awaking
it is the demon that haunts you in between: silent, unseen, crippling.
Is it possible to make such a one a friend?

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This poem was written by my sister, Cindy, who is currently—and heroically has been for some years—facing severe medical issues.

Thank you for reading Pain. I sincerely hope you have enjoyed it and I humbly appreciate your visiting the Book of Pain. As always, I look forward to your comments.

The photograph was taken at Harkness Memorial Park, on the Connecticut side of the Long Island Sound. To see my photography, please visit the Book of Bokeh blog.

john

Poem © Lucinda Lenora Hayden. Photograph and notes © John Etheridge; all rights reserved.

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Filed under Poetry