My Grandfather

[tambourine-man]

Hands static
Rigoured into mortise
Eyes mercifully unopened
Face unfairly distorted
A mould of final emotions
Beside his sleeping wife

She awakens to find him already departed
Quietly
Without warning
His remaining hair is ruffled
Alive in it’s tussle
But he has left her alone this morning

She stirs and knows the day ahead
Caring for overgrown child in the oversized cot
The death she had been expecting
But the manner she will not
She calls his name to wake his shell
But she will not receive an answer

The silence of his body
The confirmation she had come to dread
No more confused attempts at speech
No more labouring of breath
No more vacant and tearful eyes
Unable to recognise his love

He can give only silence this day
She recoils, and with sharp intake of air
Makes the sound reserved
For people discarded without care
She calls his name between her cries
But she does not receive an answer

Alone. In a one-person room
She stands, in familiar robe and hair unmade
To whisper her last love
Echoing hushed calls with news relayed
Their time together had ended
Their time apart had not begun

The crowds have gathered to see the man
A picture of our bodily betray
A body that fought in trench and infection
But never its slow decay
Conquered
Liberated
It ceased to be dignified
As is always the way

 

[tambourine-man]

Sorry for the self bump, but I actually want critique (forgot to state as such in the title).

Let rip.

 

[Strawberry_lovemuffin]

His remaining hair is ruffled
Alive in it’s tussle
But he has left her alone this morning

Mate, I think these lines are absolutely heartbreaking. Tears sprung to my eyes, I am not kidding you.

For some reason this part, the whole start of the piece, affected me the most.

The parts about the wife's emotions, to me were most powerful, in fact I could have done without some of the description about his body or illness in favour of more memories of him alive, perhaps a whole paragraph where he is alive again in her mind, only to come back to reality in a gentle way similar to 'But he has left her alone this morning'.

Each verse (stanza) is kind of complete in itself, if you look closely each one could actually be it's own poem - even standing alone they each describe the situation quite clearly.

If I had any criticism at all it would perhaps just be that, the way this is contructed... I like a piece to build up to a conclusion.... maybe starting with her lying in bed with him, snippets of her memories and allusions to his illness in the middle, then the realisation that he's gone, at the end - instead of each stanza being a microism in itself... revealing it at once, then over and over like a mantra

But then again half of the power of this came in the first, shocking intro, so maybe I'm all wrong.

Was this your grandfather? .

 

[Strawberry_lovemuffin]

Why can't I bloody edit my posts?!?!

Here's what I wanted to add...

I don't know that the way I've suggested would make this any better than it is; I really really like it. The way it is now is kind of like you've taken snapshots of the situation from different angles, building in slightly different emotions and descriptions each time.

 

[(Wordy)]

Was this your grandfather?

I assumed it was, so due to the poem's deeply personal nature I was a little hesitant to critique.

It's a touching and heartfelt poem, and it strikes me that a lot of care has gone into writing it. I think SLM makes some good points - I agree that each stanza could probably stand on its own (which is quite an achievement in what is essentially a narrative poem).

I reckon all the stanzas flow from one to the next, except the transition from the penultimate to the last. You could mark this transition with an asterisk between the stanzas, or otherwise you could add a line at the beginning of the last stanza, saying something along the lines of, "Now, at the funeral..." (though I'm sure you could think of a phrase less prosaic than this!)

 

[Raz]

I'm with SLM, once I actually sat down and read this it brought tears to my eyes....this made me think of everyone I've lost, which makes it good writing to have that impact.

I don't know if I have anything constructive to add....at first I thought the break-up of verses was a bit jarring, but didn't notice that the more I read it....I do think your creation of that funereal atmosphere is very well done.

 

[tambourine-man]

Thanks for the critique guys. I actually replied earlier to this, but deleted the original reply until I'd had some time to reflect.

SLM: Yes, it refers directly to my Grandfather. He died of complications arising from multiple cancers (I think the secondary cancer was the one that claimed him). I wrote it as something stuck with me when I was informed of his death... that my Grandma found him lying beside her, having passed away some time in the night.

That raised a whole load of feelings for me. I think we tend to have a slightly stylised and idealised perspective on death. Not necessarily a romantic idealism, but I've always felt that death is something that we all hope won't come as a solitary experience: the person dying in hospital, the person dying the arms of another, the person dying on the operating table, the person suffering a heart attack in the company of others... there's something shared in those deaths - something that is almost acceptable because there are others to share the experience and protect the partner from the face of death.

I was really upset at what my Grandma must have gone through that morning. To awaken next to someone she had cared for, knowing that he was in his final weeks, but for it to suddenly be there... without any help or assistance. That's a horrible thought... not to mention the fact that she never really had the opportunity to say goodbye or the fact that she may well have felt guilt of having slept through his final moments.

For me, I wanted to get across that horror. The horror of finality with no one around to help, and no one to guide you through the confusion of where 'a person' ends and where a broken body begins. So yes, that accounts for the rather blunt approach. And yes, I think you understood what I meant by your second post. Thankyou.

Wordy & Raz: You've raised a technical issue that was bugging me when I wrote it. It actually started as a piece of prose... but halfway through writing it, I found that I was having problems properly expressing emotions and imagery in that form. I experimented with a poetic style and found that a narrative flow allowed me to work more emotionally and to suggest concepts more effectively. I was unsure about whether the six-line stanzas would work, but I'm happy with the self-contained nature of their flow.

I do however think you're spot on about the final transition... and I know damn well why it feels clunky. It's because it wasn't meant to suggest a funeral. As I said earlier, the concept that I wanted to focus on was those solitary moments after death when she was alone with the body of my Grandfather. The final stanza was meant to suggest the end of their time together (and apart) when people came round to the house to console her (having made "hushed calls with news relayed").

There's actually a simple solution to that, which is to change the tense of the first line of the final stanza to: "The crowds will soon gather to see the man." That would keep it 'in the moment' and consistent with the brief time period of my Grandma's solitude that I wanted to reflect.

================================

I just want to say a big thanks for your efforts at reading. I've heard loads of BL'ers mention how precious this little forum is to them... and I can see why. You guys do a great job and make this forum what it is. Thankyou.