Monthly Archives: July 2014

Short sharp sorrow

Posted on July 24, 2014 by gwpj

Originally posted on Jane Dougherty Writes:
Trying to get the sadness out. A haiku, a short poem, and a tanka. Grief pangs twist the heart Wring tears from vague sentiment A sea to drown in. A child is dead And…

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Scottish country fair, St. Paul, Minnesota

Posted on July 23, 2014 by gwpj

          On the green dancers leap & twirl bodies light as mist. They catch moons with their arms throw out suns make the earth under their feet groan with pleasure & with their eyes give out … Continue reading →

Posted in Dancers, Poetry | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

Sound of Sorrow, a poem

Posted on July 12, 2014 by gwpj

There is a sound, and it is heartbreaking. It is the sound of a mother wailing the loss of a child. It doesn’t matter how her child was lost; what matters is that her child is dead. Do you hear … Continue reading →

Posted in Mothers, Poetry, Sorrow | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

Grandfather

Posted on July 9, 2014 by gwpj

Your fingers tremble as you lift the fork up to your mouth. Your lips begin to bite the cake long before it reaches them. Your smell is strong with urine, and your clothes, buttons missing, are spotted with food. Your … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry | Tagged , , , | 1 Comment