Pain

Beside the door the reaper waits.
The seasons change, the winds still whip.
Some days slide by and others strip

themselves to shreds, then lie like slates
upon the floor. Our hearts are sore,
we seek the peace that culminates

in sleep that lies beyond our fingertips;
still by the door the reaper waits.

An Octain invented by Luke Prater – posted for Olivia’s d’Verse post on Octains

© Gay Reiser Cannon * 03-24-16 * All Rights Reserved

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29 thoughts on “Pain

  1. what could there be with smiles in the dark

    poet words now know lost
    is on the other sides
    of the doors we wanted to open
    but never got around to

    we hear them a-rapped
    ask what was that
    bones and decay
    or twig wind snapped

    who will sew veils
    trying not to wassail
    any pleasures
    of shroud to yolk revelation

    ourselves, hen toothed
    are weened on frights
    salt warm shadow to light
    as we receive faces
    coming back April loam
    tacking flowers to gardens

    for what grew
    itself was the mention
    of what the sky did with
    fertile eyes noses and limbs

    the voice is in
    the onion grass
    and is all Peter Lorre
    saying slowly while under
    the effects of ether
    “come back here bunny rabbit”

    thanks Grace and Gay your repartee in the comments section sent me off into an old warner bros cartoon of a poem…much obliged…good piece…made me think…love to do that…

  2. We have missed you around here; sending hugs & white light TX way; strong piece both to form & message–chilling but unflinching; thanks.

  3. The pain is palpable, Gay. It’s tough to be aware of that reaper waiting by the door. I really liked these lines: “Our hearts are sore,/we seek the peace that culminates/in sleep that lies beyond our fingertips;…” I hope peace will be yours however you find it.

  4. Yes, we are sore…how well you put it…. the daily struggles faced only to be ended too soon for any of us…. and some days do lay flat like slats. Thank goodness, not all. Good to see you, Gay.

  5. I didn’t notice the rhyme in your expertly crafted offering. I’ve missed reading your work but am finishing a 140+ page academic research study report. Graduation is in three weeks and then I hope to live in your beautiful world of poetry again.

    • Oh Anna – I am fortunate to know you. You keep doing more and more amazing things. I’m always grateful to have your comments on my work. Do come by when you have time. I am hoping to write more in April…poetry month you know. ❤

  6. I like the way this flows. I especially like the way the 1st stanza flows into the 2nd. There is also a bitter, disquieting chill in the air of these words. Well-written and deeply felt.

  7. The form becomes so uncontrived and seamless in your poem as the tercets flow together.
    “Some days slide by and others strip
    themselves to shreds, then lie like slates
    upon the floor. ”
    Love the imagery. I was really feeling this.

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