poetry

World Poetry Day

In celebration of World Poetry Day I'd like to share some poetry from our 2 books: Towards Understanding and Rhythm & Rhyme

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Of Yesterday, I Dream

* Ode to Vicky Ward, a friend and neighbour of mine back when I was 18-19 who was a victim of multiple sclerosis - written after a discussion with her on how the disease affected her and her family. 

Of yesterday, I dream.

The happiness then, it seemed

Would never really end.

Yet now, to live - I must pretend.

Helplessly, I slowly die.

In pain, I stumble. I fall...

My mind is slipping away...

My movements jerk and sway.

My children and husband have gone,

Leaving me to suffer alone.

Afraid, I hover in my dreams,

For I've only my walker on which to lean.

there's so much I would change...

...Times I'd rearrange...

All my possessions I'd gladly give 

If one more yesterday, I could live.

I would a cure to come,

To save my defenceless corpse.

As this disease eats my muscles and bones, 

I muffle my furious groans.

...In humiliation, I weep. 

How fast this disease did creep!

And in night I find my only haven,

My one comfort comes from sleep. 

...I would to dream forever...

Where I have yesterday once more;

And never again would I have to take,

The disappointment,

Each morning that I wake.

©Lillian Brummet

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Fading Scars

*Written in late 2011, a year after the suicide of my parents, about the adjustment of fading wounds and the strangeness of closure.

I did not witness the thunderous crack of gunpowder

Though I felt the trigger pull from miles away.

I did not clean the cranial mess from the wall

Nor change the bloody hotel sheets.

Yet false mind imagery appears as memory...

as if I was there.

And just when the peace and quiet enters, 

The television brightens the memory

Showing the illusionary memory as accurate...

There's so much violence on TV.

...I let her go with no selfish strings.

I forgave and embraced her, as she was.

Yet mirrors reflect the fading scars.

Those wrinkles spread

And web over

But I still see the scars...

I miss you mom.

©Lillian Brummet