Widows & Orphans
Some good societies adopt widows
people in these societies like widows.
here folk point at i-pads, mess with phones,
get their nosebags stuck in apple nostalgia
let's hang the gray heads aound the city
medals on the chest mean nothing anymore
mums put hands on children's hot foreheads,
so many years ago
now we kiss, smile knowing, we'll regret it later:
God is the only one born from me.
pain is mine, tears too, divine
I'm onfire, online let me burn you too, let me drink you.
Make me laugh, let me go to ground
never to be found
under the Mirabeau Bridge,
over the Seine,
love recalls everything
& sorrow's joy comes back again.
Let night I heard the muezzin
gathering the faithful in England
very few pilgrims are English
these days go by I stay, observe
hands join as we face the future,
underneath the bridge of sighs,
we weary of books
we weary of endless looks
we weary as the river flows by.
Last night, on the 9th March 2023,
bells and clay end the day
as days go on without me, so I stay
as my love goes to water the sea
as life flows by
seeking redemption.
as night moths come drawn by candles
at the end the day
at the end of days
days go by me & still I stay
as the days fade beyond our ken
& nothing, nothing comes back again
from Mirabeau Bridge where flows the Seine
Night comes on, bells end day,
days go by, still I pray.
people in these societies like widows.
here folk point at i-pads, mess with phones,
get their nosebags stuck in apple nostalgia
let's hang the gray heads aound the city
medals on the chest mean nothing anymore
mums put hands on children's hot foreheads,
so many years ago
now we kiss, smile knowing, we'll regret it later:
God is the only one born from me.
pain is mine, tears too, divine
I'm onfire, online let me burn you too, let me drink you.
Make me laugh, let me go to ground
never to be found
under the Mirabeau Bridge,
over the Seine,
love recalls everything
& sorrow's joy comes back again.
Let night I heard the muezzin
gathering the faithful in England
very few pilgrims are English
these days go by I stay, observe
hands join as we face the future,
underneath the bridge of sighs,
we weary of books
we weary of endless looks
we weary as the river flows by.
Last night, on the 9th March 2023,
bells and clay end the day
as days go on without me, so I stay
as my love goes to water the sea
as life flows by
seeking redemption.
as night moths come drawn by candles
at the end the day
at the end of days
days go by me & still I stay
as the days fade beyond our ken
& nothing, nothing comes back again
from Mirabeau Bridge where flows the Seine
Night comes on, bells end day,
days go by, still I pray.
keith jeffries
Sun 12th Mar 2023 12:04
I am at a loss to find any appropriate comment for this poem yet the imagery creates a mood which speaks of time passing by. To some degree the futility of what we experience but with memories we still hold dear. The second stanza stands out.
Thank you for this
Keith