Tag Archives: grief

Friday Poem – Wasted Tears

tearsA truly beautiful poem by a poet called Tiger Lily Love.

When I read it, it struck so many chords. I have shed these tears in the poem and only now can I see that they were wasted.

I shed tears over things that weren’t my fault, yet I was made to feel as if they were.

I shed tears over what I thought was a lost love, only to realise looking back that it was never that in the first place.

All those tears and all that blaming myself and beating myself up was just a waste of time.

It has taken time but I have finally let go of all the misery just as the poem says.

I (like everyone else on this planet) deserve to be here, deserve to be loved for who I am (a bookish geek with a kind heart), deserve to be treated properly and not like an option (I am a destination not a stop along the way).

I create my own happiness and I enjoy life and whatever it throws at me.

So, here is the poem…

Wasted Tears

At the height of my hysteria
While I was yet again choking on my tears

I realized just how many tears
I’ve shed for all of you
Over the years

Wasted is how I view them
Because wasted is what they are

And each tear plummeted down my face
It left behind a never fading scar

My precious tears none of you deserved
And the satisfaction of knowing I’ve shed then
Is what you’ve gained

But none of you care in the least
That shedding those tears
cruelly caused me so much pain

So I dry my eyes for the last time
And I hope you enjoyed that last show

Because I’m done wasting my tears on you
And am letting you-
And all of the misery
Go

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Friday Poem – Grief

griefToday’s poem is called “Grief” by Elizabeth Barrett Browning (1806-1861) and she was one of the most prominent poets of the Victorian era.

I had intended to do a poem about grief and loss today because my lovely cousin was called to heaven earlier in the week, but after the horrific events of last night in Nice and the recent bombings in Iraq and Bangladesh this poem seems to have even more significance today.

The poem’s meaning is all about the fact that true grief is draining on all emotions because there is no hope left.

Grief

I TELL you, hopeless grief is passionless;
That only men incredulous of despair,
Half-taught in anguish, through the midnight air
Beat upward to God’s throne in loud access
Of shrieking and reproach. Full desertness,
In souls as countries, lieth silent-bare
Under the blanching, vertical eye-glare
Of the absolute Heavens. Deep-hearted man, express
Grief for thy Dead in silence like to death–
Most like a monumental statue set
In everlasting watch and moveless woe
Till itself crumble to the dust beneath.
Touch it; the marble eyelids are not wet:
If it could weep, it could arise and go.

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CHILDREN’S BOOK REVIEW – “The Many Worlds of Albie Bright” by Christopher Edge

albie bright

  • Stars: 5
  • Would I recommend it: Definitely
  • Age range: 8-12+

 

HOW FAR WOULD YOU GO TO CHANGE YOUR WORLD?

When Albie’s mum dies, it’s natural he should ask where she’s gone. His parents are scientists and they usually have all the answers. Dad mutters something about quantum physics and parallel universes, so Albie gets a box, a laptop and a rotting banana, and sends himself through time and space in search of his mum.

What he finds may or may not be what he’s looking for, but he does learn the answers to some big questions.

An extraordinary novel for anyone who’s ever been curious.

 

I bought this book for SC on a whim because I liked the look of the cover and the detail on the back.

It pretty much stayed on the shelf for a couple of months, until we ran out of books to read. SC was slightly reluctant, but we started reading, and from the first page he was hooked and got rather upset when it was time to stop reading each night – “don’t stop mummy, keep reading!”

I’m not going to give away any spoilers, because that’s not fair.

But, we did learn some fascinating facts about quantum physics (and for someone who pretty much sucked at the subject at school, why were my physics lessons never this interesting?)

At the heart of the book is a story about dealing with loss and grief.  Which for a child’s book is a very deep subject, especially when the subject who dies is your mum, but the book deals with this delicate issue with subtlety and tact.

There are some very touching and poignant moments as well as some rather funny antics along the way – especially the one with the stuffed platypus and when some 90s disco moves are mentioned (those were the days, and yes I did have to give a demonstration to SCC!)

This is an amazing book and would recommend anyone to read it from 8 upwards.  As an adult I thoroughly enjoyed it and learnt some stuff I didn’t know before and SC was totally hooked.

But, maybe it’s just us, but we did get slightly teary (OK we got very teary and both blubbed) at the end of the book – so just beware and have some tissues handy!

“We’re all made of stardust!”

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Friday Poem – I Speak Not

“I Speak Not”, a poem by Lord George Gordon Byron one of the leading figures in the Romantic Movement!

 

I Speak Not

I speak not, I trace not, I breathe not thy name;
There is grief in the sound, there is guilt in the fame;
But the tear that now burns on my cheek may impart
The deep thoughts that dwell in that silence of heart.
Too brief for our passion, too long for our peace,
Were those hours – can their joy or their bitterness cease?
We repent, we abjure, we will break from our chain, –
We will part, we will fly to – unite it again!
Oh! thine be the gladness, and mine be the guilt!
Forgive me, adored one! – forsake if thou wilt;
But the heart which is thine shall expire undebased,
And man shall not break it – whatever thou may’st.
And stern to the haughty, but humble to thee,
This soul in its bitterest blackness shall be;
And our days seem as swift, and our moments more sweet,
With thee at my side, than with worlds at our feet.
One sigh of thy sorrow, one look of thy love,
Shall turn me or fix, shall reward or reprove.
And the heartless may wonder at all I resign –
Thy lips shall reply, not to them, but to mine.

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