Artist

Alexander Averin

Sunday, 9 January 2011

Marriage Funeral for a Friend

This is dedicated to a very dear friend.


Marriage Funeral for a Friend



Like a man recently returned to the world
he walked back in (again)
and butter-wouldn’t-melt (again)
for he was quite reformed (again).

He of the drunken rages,
the kicking-down of doors
the jumping on ceilings
and the breaking of floors.

Theirs was a mismatch made in hell,
that created for him a saint
but for her a brute.

(She of the far-too-forgiving).

His ways are wild;
she goes in gentleness
and believes the meek are blessed
though she dreams of her escape

as she tiptoes over eggshells,
creeping by him with only her halo shining,
as she trails fine angel dust in her sweet wake.

She sweeps it under carpets
along with all her heartaches,
and together they fall
and fall
and fall (again).

Down to a grave they fall
from her pure but over-burdened  shoulders.


Cait O’Connor

17 comments:

Vee said...

Like you, I know a few. She's not an angel, poor thing, she's made herself into a carpet. And she's not doing either of them any favors. (Cait, this should be published, if it hasn't been already.)

mollygolver said...

Cait - I love this poem! You are very talented. I agree with Vee - it definitely should be published (if not already)

A Woman Of No Importance said...

I think this is wonderful, poignant and very telling - Thank you for sharing it Cait, I have a friend I think it's made for xxx

Preseli Mags said...

Fabulous poem Cait. Thoughtful and moving. 'Creeping by him with only her halo shining'. What a lovely line.

Mac n' Janet said...

Described too many I've known through the years. Great writing, I'm very impressed and when it comes to poetry that's not easy to do.

Nan said...

I hope she leaves him. Far too many women live in these relationships. I will never, ever understand what makes them stay. I thought the title meant the marriage was over, but as I read the poem I thought yes, it might be over but the people haven't left it yet. You are so, so good at capturing life in a poem.

ds said...

Oh...so sad and so powerfully written. I agree with the others about publishing.
I wish there were more hope for your friend.

Marian said...

This is a wonderful poem. So sad and hopeless for your friend. I read it earlier today and it really stayed with me. Well done.

Debs Carr said...

You are so talented. This poem sums up a life that so many must recognize. I do hope your friend is able to find a way out of her predicament.

Pat Posner said...

Sad and very powerful and visual, Cait. It's a perfect title, too.

xxPat

Ruth said...

Powerfully sad story told here. Deftly done, and I especially appreciate the second stanza. I feel the rhyme there works very, very well in a poem of tragic scope like this.

Dave King said...

A poem that will linger long. It's remarkable nature was well signalled in the title.

Cottage Garden said...

Cait, your poetry is remarkable.

I first read these words this morning and they have stayed with me.

I do hope your friend finds the resolve to break the pattern, and the strength to change her life ...

Jeanne
x

Toni aka irishlas said...

Poetry that makes your heart ache.

Incredibly written, Cait.

Mark said...

Enough said - in the poem and the comments above too

Do you like raymond Carver's poetry I wonder? He writes well of loss and dispair in relationships, often hos won

Fennie said...

Lovely poem, Cait. And so true of so many abusive relationships. But the question to ask is why? Not why the meekness but why the anger. Whence it comes, whither it goes. What strange and uncontrollable compulsions driven by what unknowable and unfathomable disappointments or longings? Rage, rage against the dying of what? Hope? What is being extinguished, what calls the rage that cannot be controlled. Evil spirits are as good an answer as any.

CAMILLA said...

Thank you Cait, you are a very talented Poet and Writer.

As to our dear Fennie's comment, I am wondering if this question of WHY - lies deep within this distructable person's persona, maybe because they are feeling inadequate, or carrying a huge chip on their shoulder, but the question still stands..... why, is it inherited somewhere along the line from geology of that person's genes?