Distant Storm

It was there in the nicotine stains on your fingers

The sun set daily event in your hazel eyes

The way you let tomorrow lay heavy in the air to linger

You said growing old was a lie

Not once did you feel free to speak your wonder

Or tell me what you really saw

When the night was loud with terror thunder

And the shaky mornings blood red raw

The day you put yourself to sleep

Across a mountain rippled pain

Down my cheek a tear drop creep

became an aching ball and chain

Advertisements

Author: valo

I am a poet, writer and activist with a special interest in human rights for children and women as well as the elimination of poverty worldwide. If you read this today, feed someone locally for me will you? Drop off a non perishable food item at the food bank nearest you and consider yourself hugged. Thank you!

16 thoughts on “Distant Storm”

    1. I wish that too Danielle, and I know this sounds trite, but Dave’s death taught me that love is all that matters and everything else is noise. hugs

    1. Pain in the arse is my name and inspiration is my game bindo. :0 However, let it be known that you inspire everyone who reads your blog, so there!

  1. I wish I didn’t relate so much to this from the other side….

    It isn’t fare, I know, but than what is?
    Illness? Mebbes, or perhaps an inability to deal with life’s bullshit at the deepest level..

    Dig your art..

    1. You stay away from that other side bindo okay? Some don’t have the a skin tough enough to bear this life and there are lots of reasons why that just aren’t fixable. Hey, I dig your art too my friend.

  2. I hope this deceased man can read this
    through that long distance he put between
    the two of you. Have you really forgiven him?
    (You don’t have to answer that.) Poignant, Val.

    “They day you put…”
    I bet he caught that, too.

    1. I was only angry at him intermittantly, but not for dying. I won’t forgive the person who put that pain inside him which led to his suffering and death. Some things are unforgivable, and that was one of them. Thanks tree for being so insightful. Dave would appreciate it.

  3. “When the night was loud with terror thunder
    And the shaky mornings blood red raw..”

    I love this line.

    A couple of lovely blog friends? You mean there are people devious enough to try to get you to come back? Thank goodness I’m not one of underhanded sneaky types or anything..;-)

    1. Thank you for liking this verse, it’s personal and the you chose was the easiest to write, it is that ingrained in my memory. Oh, I think you may know one of those devious people fairly well, in fact you share the same fingerprints! 😉 HUGS

  4. i love that opening line 🙂

    hey drop me an email at shapeofabox(at)gmail.com if you’d like to submit some work for the lit mag or an except from your already published novel!

    1. That opening line was my late husband Jessie. In fact it’s all about him…his mental illness, his suicide and the legacy he left me. I’m glad you liked it because that means you liked some part of Dave and that is awesome.

    1. Well, if this isn’t the most underhanded way to keep me tethered to this thing, then I don’t know what is! 😉 Aw, this is exceptionally cool and I love you for nominating me for this honour. A couple of lovely blog friends (you know who you are) have convinced me to at least blog a little, so I’ll drop a couple of nuggets every week. This is more a semi closing now. Good god I’m sounding flakey and wishy washy and I’m so NOT. How in the hell did you people get into my heart like this? Jeepers. HUGS uninvoked for giving me a way to pass along this vibe.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s