Tag: loss
member name: Terry Collett
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November 06, 2009 03:25 AM EST --
This is the strand of hair His fingers touched Before the assassin’s Bullet struck and stilled The fingers in a silent pose.
This the lobe of ear He kissed before the bullet Hissed through . . .
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December 01, 2006 02:39 AM EST --
She, unknowing, with stillborn child,
Mellow in her youthfulness,
Loving in her wren-like narrowness,
Chided without humour
With her hawk-like tongue,
The wide paths of her short years.
. . .
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April 08, 2007 10:14 AM EDT --
I just want my baby back She says. The black Dress contrasts against
Paleness of her haunted face. Angst Is here. Grief to the brim. The colour of her life dim
With the death of babe . . .
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February 12, 2008 05:22 PM EST --
She wondered
If other mothers
Felt the same
When their baby died:
Dull, dark and empty,
As if part of them
Had been torn away,
Buried in another place,
Far off in some foreign ground; . . .
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June 03, 2008 03:29 AM EDT --
She couldn't believe The time had gone so Fast, the last twelve months Had been a Hell, a
Hard-to-get-through space Without the touch or Feel of God or His Fine grace, or so it
Seemed, . . .
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December 24, 2008 05:00 PM EST --
Rose Ripweed miscarried her fifth child.
Rose stared into the empty space
Of her life and counted on her worn fingers
The nightly loves now gone to waste.
Rose carried the memory
Of each and . . .
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February 24, 2009 04:16 AM EST --
She thinks of him
On days like this,
Remembers the last embrace,
The final kiss,
Looks at the skyline,
The passing clouds,
At the birds,
And misses
His presence,
His voice,
His gentle . . .
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February 27, 2009 11:45 AM EST --
These hands are empty now,
But once they held
A baby dying.
The eyes are dry
And steady now,
But once they drowned
In a sea of grief.
These lips
Are silent now,
But once they screamed . . .
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April 08, 2009 03:30 AM EDT --
After all that sex, kissing,
Flowers bought, and chocolates
Consumed, he said he doesn't
Love you and never had; how
Bad can it get for you? Has
He never loved you with a
Passion, . . .
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October 30, 2009 06:36 AM EDT --
You can’t get the stink Of the hospital Out of your mind, that Aspect haunts as Much as the mindless Moron (who handed You your dead baby) Who had icy eyes And a hint of so what Written . . .
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October 20, 2007 03:36 PM EDT --
Kiss cold, still, white brow
Dying babe leaves you broke now
Wounded, empty self.
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June 07, 2007 01:49 AM EDT --
Go my Irish heart,
Seek out her
Whom you have loved;
Go lay your head
Upon her lap
And let her hand
Embrace your brow.
Her lips your lips
So warm caress
To ease the . . .
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August 11, 2007 02:26 PM EDT --
The arms are empty now,
The space overflows
With memories
And choking fits
Of nightly haunts
And baby’s shadow on the wall.
Even emptiness can hurt
Where the loss is felt
Deep down
. . .
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February 20, 2008 04:03 PM EST --
Night and the stars shine
You are there my little babe
Who died in my womb.
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June 01, 2008 11:42 AM EDT --
She knew he was no good
From the start, but kidded
Herself that maybe she
Could nag him into shape,
Get him to have a bath,
Shave and comb his long hair,
Might get him to drink less
And . . .
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February 01, 2008 07:55 AM EST --
You walk along the beach with the sand between and beneath your naked toes, the sun touching your skin, the slight breeze feeling your hair. You stop and stare at the sea, the sound of the waves on the . . .
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April 23, 2009 02:19 AM EDT --
Some days she doesn't think
Of baby's death, some days,
If other troubles or worries
Crowd her in. Sometimes,
If the mood is strong
And memories flood her mind,
She takes a . . .
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May 10, 2009 01:37 PM EDT --
After all this, what then?
You ask. Another day
To think and feel,
Another time to sense
The emptiness of arms,
The loss of child.
There is no loss like that,
Not in the same sense, . . .
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November 01, 2009 02:45 PM EST --
She would have those days When the whole thing wasn’t Worth the drawing of curtains Or blinds; wasn’t worth turning Over in bed to see the time on The clock perched on the bedside . . .
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April 12, 2008 03:39 AM EDT --
Before baby died,
Before the drawn out
Requiem mass her
Husband insisted
Upon; before the
Dark dreadful nights of
Staring at the still
Empty cot with pink
Blankets and white bows;
. . .
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