Closing Pandora's Box

The men, the women, the children walk
In a line, on the side of the dusty track.
Feet scraping, shoulders hunched, in silence, no talk.
Left, right, left, right, left, right, there’s no going back.

Some carry their lives in bundles, on their heads, their backs or hanging by their side,
Under the burden of memories, others carry themselves from falling to the ground.
Their shadows spill around them, forming dark puddles where they collide
Left right, left right, left, there’s no turning around.

They are  like soldiers, they are martyrs, each one an exile,
Marching in suits starched with mud, others with dresses torn.
Feet hurting, cuts in skin that is still fragile.
Left, right, left, right, it’s behind, a cause forlorn.

Where are they to go?
Left, right, left, no rhythm in their feet.
The eyes of the world are on them, what do they have to show?
Left, right. Maybe one day  they will be back, they are not yet beat.

Nas - (March 2011)

This poem I wrote after a 3 year drought of poem writing and so thought I’d share it with you.

*****

“Most of the patients here,” she said. “Suffer from terminal illnesses and disease. Many have been told they have limited time to live.” It was another day at the hospice training. And we were having a group discussion. “I want you all to get into pairs and threes if needed, and discuss what you would do if you were told you had a short amount of time to live?” I ask you that question,

What would you do if you were told you would die soon?

“It’s important because many of us never think about it. And I think we should ask it because it reminds us of our mortality.” She said after the discussion.

*****

Many people in the Middle East, in New Zealand, in Japan, were forced to ask themselves this question. There are people living today, who have the shadow of death hanging over their shoulder and they just do not know when their counter will stop counting. We’ve all heard and seen pictures of the death, the destruction, the suffering those people are going through. We’ve all heard the stories of poverty and persecution some people are a victim of each day of their lives.

When you jump into bed tonight, just spare a minute for those people, who do not have a bed in which to to sleep. Think of those people who will be resting their head amid the sound of gun fire. Think of those people who will be cuddling up against rubble. Think of the elderly, the children, the sick, the injured. Think of those that have lost brothers, sisters, mothers, fathers, husbands, wives, sons, daughters and friends. Think of them and say a prayer.

Please do give generously to those charitable organisations that are providing aid to those in need to the best of your ability.

________________________________

Title: Better Days – Goo Goo Dolls
Picture 1, showing a girl walking with a bag through rubble taken from here.
Picture 2, showing a woman prisoner taken from here.
Picture 3, showing a frail man laying taken from here.

When death comes
like the hungry bear in autumn;
When death comes and takes all the bright coins to buy me,
and snaps the purse shut;
when death comes like measle-pox;
when death comes like an iceberg between the shoulder blades,
I want to step through the door full of curiosity, wondering:
what is it going to be like, that cottage of darkness?
And therefore I look upon everything
as a brotherhood and a sisterhood,
and I look upon time as no more than an idea,
and I consider eternity as another possibility,
and I think of each life as a flower, as common
as a field daisy, and as singular,
and each name a comfortable music in the mouth
tending as all music does, toward silence,
and each body a lion of courage, and something
precious to the earth.
When it’s over, I want to say: all my life
I was a bride married to amazement.
I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.
When it’s over, I don’t want to wonder
if I have made of my life something particular, and real.
I don’t want to find myself sighing and frightened,
or full of argument.
I don’t want to end up simply having visited this world.

“When Death Comes” – Mary Oliver

*****

Then…

There were times when I screamed out to God. It’s ironic isn’t it? When we are happy and have no need whatsoever of calling Him, some of us are inclined to think of His presence as an intrusion. Go to Him then and He would take you in with open arms and make you feel welcome. But going to Him when all help was lost and you’d be faced with a closed door and silence. Such loud and echoing silence, that could drive you mad. All you would hear was your own voice, full of desperation and need being thrown back to you. Was He ever there?

Then something happens, or I hear something, or see a picture, or visit a place and memories flood back like a gushing river. Every single particle of ‘rationality’, ‘logic’ and ‘common sense’ is swept away by tears of grief. Clean and honest tears. Bathing myself in self pity is something I find so disgusting. It makes me cringe to think to think the bubbly Charley I remember, whose happiness was contagious and who was always overflowing with life has now become someone who brings nothing but sorrow. If she were to see me now, what would she think? And that brings me onto my next point.

Promises made with the dead while they held our hand, walked beside us and shared the same air to breathe as us are all well and good. There are many promises I will never forget, promises that I will keep with me forever and  will try my best to fulfil. But there are times when this so called ‘respect for the feelings of the dead’ brings me doubt. Sometimes when people say “is that what Charley would have wanted?” or “Charley wouldn’t have liked you doing such and such,” I wonder whether it is really just them using her name to say a piece of their mind, to vent their frustration at my never-ending sadness, or to have their way. I know it’s wrong of me. Their intentions are pure, they don’t mean it that way. But that momentary flash of desperation, of exhaustion and annoyance in their eyes makes me wonder. I hope I never am guilty of saying it that way to anyone.

At the beginning I used to be so afraid of going all those places Charley and I used to go, the walk through the parks or taking in the view of London from the top of Shirley Hills. But over the last year, I’ve visited the park many times in the depths of the night, and despite a few early incidents it wasn’t as bad as I had expected. Her absence wasn’t any more intense there as it was in other places; it’s not confined to a particular place. Her absence is like the distribution of air, it’s spread everywhere. It’s like that, I feel it while I’m sitting alone on the bus or I feel it when I’m feeling sad and in need of someone to talk to for example. But even that isn’t entirely true. There is one place where I feel it the most. Me. I miss her hugs.

*****

Now…

Tomorrow will be exactly one year since she passed away. ******* Cancer. I was speaking to a friend recently and they said to me, ‘How do you think Charley would feel knowing she was the reason behind your grief? Do you think she would want you to suffer endlessly because of her death?’

That made me think. Yes, I still do miss her, yes I still feel the emptiness from time to time, but it’s time I let it go. It’s time I came out of the shell I have been hiding in, wallowing in my sorrow, and felt the warmth of the sun on my skin, felt the refreshing rain and tried to truly enjoy happiness and all the other wonders of this life. On new year’s I was recovering from a very long day, getting rid of all that exhaustion that I completely forgot about Charley. When I finally realised, finally remembered, it was much more than a fading memory. It would not be right for me to call it a meeting (that’d get me locked up), but it was as if the armour of sorrow which had confined me for so long was removed. So much easier to breathe, so much easier to move. There were no tears, and that I think that is why I could see properly. My eyes still need time to adjust but it’s a beginning.

Have you ever said, ‘tonight I must get a good sleep because I have a long day tomorrow,’ and found you sleep very little? Have you ever said ‘let’s talk. Now’s the time’ and noted how silence ensues? Maybe if you desire something too desperately, you may not be able to get the best of it. Is that the same with the death of a loved one? Wanting so much to keep their memory alive, to remember each and every detail you find yourself looking into a dark and dingy hole which drags you in. A bit like a black hole. In the same way, I’m led to believe God was there all along. It was my own frantic screaming which stopped me from hearing that voice of help I had relied my last hope on. God gives to only those who have the ability and the willingness to accept. I was not ready to accept, I was not ready to listen and it was my mistake.

A few days before she passed away, Charley asked me find and print out the poem shown above. Another patient who was reaching the end of his life had told her about it and said they’d discuss it together when she had read it. They never got the chance, he passed away that night. When Charley finished reading the poem, with tears rolling down her beautiful face she said, ‘It doesn’t sound so bad having read that. Are you afraid? I wont leave till you say goodbye’. But I never got a chance to say goodbye. I was reminded of the poem while at the weekly hospice training, and it brought back sore memories. Am I ready to say goodbye yet? I don’t know. =/.

Reach – S Club 7.

We used to sing this song at school back in year 6. It was our song. It is now the first song on my playlist and I thought I’d share it with you.

I read this quote a few days ago, and it really hit home and really made me think:

If you focus to much on those you have lost, you’ll end up pushing away those that are left. – Unknown²

_________________________________

Title: Iridescent – Linkin Park.
Picture 1: I have had this picture on my computer for a very long time, and so no longer have the link to it.
Picture 2: Same with this picture.
²Quote from http://www.boardofwisdom.com/

Don’t leave it till tomorrow for tomorrow doesn’t exist. Those people who say they will do it tomorrow never usually get round to doing it. You don’t know what could happen tomorrow so do it (or say it) when you have the chance – My mother.

You have probably heard something along the same lines as the quote above. In your case it may also have been a parent, a carer, a friend or Mr I talk inspiration on the TV. Therefore I’m not going to say much about it but will leave you a beautiful poem I came across today:

If I knew it would be the last time that I'd see you fall asleep,
I would tuck you in more tightly, and pray the Lord your soul to keep.
If I knew it would be the last time that I'd see you walk out the door,
I would give you a hug and kiss, and call you back for just one more.

If I knew it would be the last time I'd hear your voice lifted up in praise,
I would tape each word and action, and play them back throughout my days
If I knew it would be the last time, I would spare an extra minute or two,
To stop and say "I love you," instead of assuming you know I do.

So just in case tomorrow never comes, and today is all I get,
I'd like to say how much I love you, and I hope we never will forget.
Tomorrow is not promised to anyone, young or old alike,
And today may be the last chance you get to hold your loved one tight.

So if you're waiting for tomorrow, why not do it today?
For if tomorrow never comes, you'll surely regret the day
That you didn't take that extra time for a smile, a hug, or a kiss,
And you were too busy to grant someone, what turned out to be their one last wish.

So hold your loved ones close today, and whisper in their ear,
That you love them very much, and you'll always hold them dear.
Take time to say "I'm sorry," "Please forgive me," "thank you" or "it's okay".
And if tomorrow never comes, you'll have no regrets about today.

If tomorrow never comes – Norma Marek

*****

Recently, someone asked me to write a post dedicated to my friends. This is for you; you who I see at uni every week, you who used to remind me to eat badaam (almonds) in the mornings, you who I met on valentine's day so many years ago, you whose BMW is the envy of many men, you who I shall talk to on that park bench one day, you who are new and you and you and you.