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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: Do you miss The Daily Mail?dots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: Predator
    ASL Info:    21/m/Derbyshire, England
    Elite Ratio:    7.02 - 257/198/73
    Words: 377
    Class/Type: Poetry/Misc
    Total Views: 476
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 2401



    Description:
       


    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.

    dotsDo you miss The Daily Mail?dots
    -------------------------------------------


    And did you miss your roses
    once they'd been uprooted? Unappealing prospect: falling
    headlong into thorns, a mushroom cloud of petals
    panicked shrieks tearing scars
    on a grandson's reddening cheeks.

    Wooden pegs as soldiers; dens
    in the attic, mine made by you; cold
    custard on a footstool on Wednesday afternoons.
    Do you remember?
    And do you remember brushing the marble
    scattering soot into every nook
    crook and cranny of an ancient rug?
    Your glasses were missing
    presumed lost, sunk
    by a U-boat in the wintry Atlantic
    of the sofas cushioned depths.

    And the two of us sitting
    surrounded by frost
    and the ghosts of the early morning mist.
    And are we still there?
    In hat and scarf waiting for the warmth
    teaching me Anders and Gabriel
    the engine refusing to start

    because you've tried to keep me warm.
    So as we walk you teach me
    not to shuffle my feet as I drag them in late
    and how to read your wrist

    a somnambulant child
    stewing, steaming beneath a tea cosy
    taking little steps, being taught time
    and love and patience. Do you remember now?

    My face
    when I saw the dog at your feet and knew
    you were taking me to the end of the earth
    on foot. My face when you let me
    make up the rules. Do you remember
    the first time I talked back
    (also the last)
    and the apology you kept tucked
    against the sepias of my distants
    too precious to be scrapped
    with the weddings and obits?

    Do you remember how many times
    you told me how well I'd done?
    rising to your feet and clinging
    to my shoulders? when it got harder
    to breathe? how it felt to walk
    and not get tired? And did you know
    the rest? And do you know? And did you miss

    what went unsaid?
    And do you miss it all now? Or are you there
    in your workshop
    with the willful smell of creosote
    and the endless tools and a little boy
    standing on a stool against your chest
    smiling as you hold him close

    -'and do you know?
    Do you know your Grandad loves you?'




    Submitted on 2011-01-03 05:34:16     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
    Submissions: [ Previous ] [ Next ]

    Rate This Submission

    1: >_<
    2: I dunno...
    3: meh!
    4: Pretty cool
    5: Wow!




    ||| Comments |||
      i really like this.

    i like how it goes from one image to the next. i like that it is personal. or at least feels it; like memories being sifted, refined even, into a fine dust that settles onto the page.

    it's as if each thing/memory/thought/reminder had/has purpose.

    there is just something here in the randomness and not so randomness of it.

    makes me wish i had fonder memories of my grandmothers.

    so, some unspecifieds....
    | Posted on 2011-01-03 00:00:00 | by isabella | [ Reply to This ]


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