Black Umbrella

everything you say about hurt is a lie,
I know there are never enough words,
not words still dry, still complete,
a gutted lexicon slips into the flooded chasm
between want and fulfilment,
dissolving into platitudes as it pleads ;

see, to explain hurt, you have to explain everything,
but everything is a lattice of unhealed scars that
re-patterns incessantly in the darkness of ache,
always changing, always erasing;
everything is tiny fragments that congeal
into a living, writhing organism,
its heart beating outside your heart,
its breath warming inside your breath;
always growing, always imploding;

everything is a cloudy sky that forgot
the smell of rain,
everything is the memory of hurt
that whispers your drowning name,
everything is never really yours to tell,
whatever you say about hurt is a lie;

yet we will nod and weep, even smile a little,
and the lie will grow soft, glistening wings,
become a silver truth in the empty night sky,
no longer birthed from our silent eyes
that stare out of blurry window panes
at our sodden clothes,
walking that day
in the after wet of a summer shower,
the warm rain locked forever
in the black of a closed umbrella.

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29 thoughts on “Black Umbrella

  1. I can relate to this poem and you dig deep into the core of hurt and pain with your feelings and imagery. Brilliant how you work that closed, black umbrella into capturing how we can hold onto our heartaches.

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  2. Life does serve up challenges & hurt is usually on the menu. But emotions, some say, are our gift, something integral to this plane of existence. A deep & dark poem, yet there is a smearing of introspection, a yelp of egress that echoes out to the sunlit shadowless places. I like your line /unhealed scars that re-pattern incessantly in the darkness of ache/.

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  3. These lines are so full of pain I can feel it::
    ‘everything is a lattice of unhealed scars that
    re-patterns incessantly in the darkness of ache’,
    And then those final lines are so cinematic.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Impressively lyrical for a poem that is also so ambitious and dense with ambition and meaning. For me, the strongest write of the evening sofa…

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Love the flow of words, which draws the reader forward, wanting to read the next line of verse and stanza that follows. Am told, within every lie, there is truth, if one is willing to look for it.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. everything is tiny fragments that congeal
    into a living, writhing organism,
    its heart beating outside your heart,

    our silent eyes
    that stare out of blurry window panes

    the warm rain locked forever
    in the black of a closed umbrella.

    Was especially grabbed by the above. Delicious!

    Like

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