karen sinclair

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Misery.....Shanghai Moon - Poem by karen sinclair

Tears hung as re-guarded chandeliers
Unwelcome and yet they arrive
The entourage of my mourning glory
And she was my morning glory

A bright turquoise Shanghai parasole in a brilliant summers day
Creates emerald green on brass reflections
Did you know that? i never did till yesterday

And two black candles lit (lit hours later)
Post the momentary
Missing you's beneath Shanghai's moon

It not the real form of the wax which drips as tears past the glass
Of remnant wine bottles towards one perfect garden table which holds thoughts
Nor the dancing flickering all whimsical


Its the tiny aftermath of ribbon like smouldering black which twists off and upwards towards a twighlight planed sky which executes
Which severs which cuts
And guts this floundering form

Who strokes the cat of pity for a moments respite
Who needs the stray more than anyone on the day she missing
And hurting
As this one stray whose overjoyed at the thought of one very soft blanket lain for her
So overjoyed, she chokes on her own purrs
Even with painfully aching hips
She finds joy in just one blanket and the company of I
That made me smile
Thank you Bebe
Miss you sis happy birthday xx

Poet's Notes about The Poem

yesterday was hard, my beloved sisters birthday.... so i just sat on the garden, i know this write isnt up for much but it was my train of thoughts between tears.... sorry if im a bit quite atm but this time of year is tough now

Comments about Misery.....Shanghai Moon by karen sinclair

  • Artchil Daug (8/20/2012 9:38:00 PM)

    Ah, those streams of consciousnes embroiled
    in the smoke of the unconscious,
    the melancholic weight that one embraces
    in the optimism of longing.
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  • Valerie Dohren (8/20/2012 1:25:00 PM)

    Very heartfelt and emotion filled write, and that is true poetry. Wonderful Karen. May time bring you some solace. (Report) Reply

  • (8/20/2012 5:25:00 AM)

    This poem may seem to some incoherent in form and structure, but emotions and recurring inundating grief does not know structure, tortuous pain is amorphous and has many guises. This poem is uniformly fashioned by love and longing and enduring sadness that only time may lessen but never heal. My thoughts are with you. (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Monday, August 20, 2012

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