Silence

9th March 2020

Just a few words today.

We should be in The Holy Land, but Bethlehem is on 30 day lock down because of the corona virus.

We went out on Thursday and were in the air when the lock down was put into effect. Our pilgrimage agents took the decision , for our safety , to fly us home the next day. We spent a night in Tel Aviv , had a couple of hours whizzing around Jerusalem where we were blessed to be able to go to the Church of The Holy Sepulchre, before rushing back to the airport. 

We intend to go back.

Silence

She will not be known

 by that name anymore,

Philomena.

They gave her that name.

She was five.

Her parents dead.

She was taken to 

the convent in Eniscothy.

They never  broke her will, 

though,

she sweated 

in the the laundry,

every day,

though,

they gave her

weak broth for food,

though,

 she was allowed,

 no conversation, 

or any time for 

childlike activities

Deep inside s

he clung to hope

of new beginnings,

a better life.

The secret silence,

loud as thunder.

the silence,

that separated,

the silence,

a tight chain,

cramped

around her soul.

Now, 

today,

Marie, will shatter 

that silence.

This thought,

before she speaks,

before her family 

knows, 

reacts, 

this thought itself, 

releases the tension,

the fetters fall, 

her lungs fill,

air, freedom, promise.

After supper, 

husband, children,

banter,

who's turn  the 

washing up?

She calls them,

sits them down,

spills it out,

tears fall, 

bathe the hurt .

For long moments,

no one speaks, 

then they hug her,

say, everything's ok,

we're here.

She says,

my name is Marie.

They nod

Silence

11th March 2017

It is heartwarming to see that my blog has had over 28,100 visits. Thank you to all those who read and comment. 

Enjoyed the writing workshop this morning.

So this six sentence challenge incorporates the cue word "will" and one of the themes of the workshop.


Silence

She would not be known by that name anymore- Philomena - the name they gave her when aged five and an orphan she was taken to the convent in Eniscorthy.
Although her will was nearly broken, working everyday in the the laundry with  little food, no conversation, or any time for childlike activities, something deep inside her clung to a hope of new beginnings and a better life.
The secret silence had become as loud as thunder, a silence that separated, a silence that pulled a chain tight around her soul and now Marie was going to shatter that silence.
Even before she spoke and although she was worried how her family would react she felt the fetters fall and a longed for freedom fill her lungs with promise.
So, after supper one day , when her husband and children were bantering about whose turn it was to do the washing up, she sat them down and spilled it out and tears fell and bathed the hurt that all of them felt.
Not one of them spoke for a moment or two but when they did they said everything would be ok and they hugged her, while she said, "my name is Marie" and they nodded.

And out in the garden just now plants seem to be growing as you look at them and there are four goldfish in the pond.
Today was definitely a bit spring like.

Since You Left.

Day 14: 14th April, 14th poem

Not being able to create a philosophical thought today I will just ponder on the quiet after the busy dance of the last week, which has been enormously enjoyable, albeit a little tiring.


Since You Left


House lonely - silence loud.
The shower - constant hum of running water,
Now stands quiet
The baby -early morning cries - a call to live.
Teenage girls spraying perfume- feint hints still  in air,
Talking - echoes of their laughter
Timeless ghosts embedded in walls.
Toddler - wandering, following,
Constant questions.
Table bursting , bubbling with chatter.
Singing boys and girls at kitchen sink- never ending dishes to clean.
Every room, every space  full,
Fridge tightly packed.
Empty now - all vast , all hollow.
Lonely house-loud silence.

Photo of grandparents and great grandparents, with Ryan (Dad) Lucy (Mum) and of course, the star of the show, Baby Rose.

Woman Caught In Adultery

  I wrote this poem last year and have performed it a few times getting great feedback:

   

Woman Caught in Adultery

They drag me through rugged streets,

Men’s hands grip my arms,

Large fingers press into flesh –pale ,  bare

Their words wild, aggressive, accusing,  

Echo, in the chamber of my brain

While he is free,

I am going to die, Yet, I fear not the dying,

But the pain, how will I bear the pain.

Terror travels with blood through my veins

And he is free,

They throw me down, in the dirt, In front of a man,

My nose forced into the rough ground.

My Foetal shape makes no attempt to rise

The raging rogues  roar, ”she has to die , it is the law”

They get ready, reach for large stones,

 But he is free.

While the one man  sits  still,

Ponders, writes in the dust

Then,  lifts his head,

“ Let the one who is without sin cast the first stone”

His words fall like seeds into my aching heart.

Silence,

One by one rocks thud into the earth. The mob, heads bent, Leave.

Left alone with Him,- I dare to raise myself up

His eyes encounter mine, His look warm , accepting,

He Knows me, all there is.

And me, I know that I,

I am free.