Ripples

[Hawkman]

I gaze upon the space you filled
which still retains your shape,
like the hollow in an unmade bed
or the imprint where you lay in grass
beneath the summer sun.

That void echoes with your voice,
growing ever quieter but never stilled,
unlike the ripples of your presence
frozen in rumpled sheets.

The edges mirror them
whilst dry leaves and dust
drift and settle in your wake.

Only a vague memory
of your scent is left

but still no tears.

[Buh4Bee]

Exquisite sorrow. The structure is pleasing to the reading of the poem. I thought about the permanence of the lover's place, now empty, and it is heart-breaking.

[YesNo]

I found it interesting how the lines kept getting shorter, like "ripples" losing energy.

[kittypaws]

Hawk ~ I understood and felt all too well your poem. the first two stanzas are strong of a presence and the third....to me it said gone. And no tears....wow...that is sad; like saying no love just a memory...a ripple in your space of life.

Nicely done.

Kittypaws

[Hawkman]

Jersea, Y/N & Kittpaws:

Thank you all for your responses and for reading. I have tweaked S3 as I was never happy with "...mirror banks reflect..." I think it's cleaner now. I'm glad that you picked up on the structure with its diminishing form, and that you find the poem so effective.

Live long and prosper - H

[Twota]

I really like this, specially the second stanza. :D

[PrinceMyshkin]

There's something about that last line that is too self-referential for my liking. Up to that moment I have been deeply invested in the speaker's loss by virtue of the signs of absence or departure; now I am suddenly yanked back to the speaker himself, and I don't know him well enough to respond to that line.

[aliengirl]

A poignant poem. The title and the idea behind the poem are quite original. I know 'you' is meant for the 'beloved' but I thought about my father (who died recently ) as I read. Some poems can say a lot if you take a personal meaning. That's what it has done for me.

[Hawkman]

Hi Ripley, Thanks for your response and I'm glad the poem spoke to you on a personal level. Essentially the poem is about loss. When someone is lost they leave a gap in our lives, regardless of the nature of that loss.

Prince: The scenario is potentially universal, so I'm not sure why you should feel the need to respond to the last line at all, merely accept it. Sometimes it's easy to express grief. Sometimes it isn't.

twota: Thanks for reading and for liking :)

Live and be well - H

[Jack of Hearts]

A dog from hell... (this time, pretty sure).

Both elegant and grounded.







J

[AuntShecky]

The sense I get from this piece may be 180 degrees off the
author's intention, but in any event, here it is:

Contradicting the contemporary consensus that the human soul is merely metaphorical,if it exists at all, the central concept (or "conceit")of this piece is that evidence of the soul's previous presence can be quantified or
perceived -- by ripples" in the bedding or imprints on the
lawn. It reminds me of reports that some so-called "primitive" people were frightened to death of having their photographs taken, for fear that it would "steal" their souls.

Yet--further contradicting the first sentence of my preceding paragraph--I've read how some modern scientists have conducted studies in which they weigh every single chemical and tissue in the human body. After accounting for every iota of substance, they add all up the various weights and subtract the sum from the original total weight of the body. The leftover difference --apparently a tiny fraction of a gram--is thought to be the weight of the human soul. (I don't know how valid this is--maybe it's apocrypal, but a laboratory scene such as the one described was featured in an episode of the first season of Breaking Bad.)

Yet--even if the human soul has no quantifiable weight or
substance --certainly it has quality--the absence of which results in pain that is undeniably real.

That's the idea which I believe the speaker of your piece is expressing.

[Hawkman]

Hello Auntie: When I was very young my late mother told me how one counts those who have passed out of our lives by the gaps they leave. I didn't understand at the time, but in the many years since, I have learned what she meant, even that the gaps have form.

Further to your premise; I understand that the human body actually gains wieght after death... It has been postulated that the human soul has negative mass. Whether this is either true or relevent I leave to either the credulity or skepticism of others. I merely mention it passing.

Thanks, as always for reading and for leaving a note to let me know you have.

Jack: Thanks to you too.

Live and be well - H