Creative Writing and unfinished business…
May 8, 2014 § 22 Comments
when my father died
delphiniums he’d planted –
became less purple
Tagged: fading, haiku, larkspur, loss, poetry, sadness
Very moving piece. Amazing how so few words can contain so much meaning and sentiment. Masterful…
Sent from my BlackBerry smartphone from Virgin Media
Thanks John. Hard one to write.
I can imagine, do you find it helpful to write about tough things? I am finding it increasingly useful.. But still some things I avoid..
I feel it’s good that you’re trying. Inspired writing comes from those places.
I don’t know whether it’s useful to do it. I never plan on writing the hard stuff as a conscious catharsis – it just presents itself, so I write it. Because I twist it into a kind of fiction, it allows me to seperate from the pain, which makes it easier.
I suppose if we allow our minds to be still so we can hear that deeper voice, we know when it’s right…
I agree, wise words. For me it’s also not conscious but things present themselves and I find myself writing on the subject. I also use fiction as a separator, I can detach myself from the reality of the pain and explore in greater depth the emotions of a particular conflict. Thanks for sharing, hope all is well with you?
Interesting that we share views. Having said what I did, I do recognise that others wouldn’t necessarily agree. But whatever we write – by definition – it has to be autobiographical at some level, particularly if we do it to make some sense of our world…
Great minds think alike?? 🙂 All having differing views is what makes people’s reason for writing so interesting. I agree with the autobiographical on some level,,,
Yes. What I meant by that is that what and how we write is an expression of who we are – which is maybe partly defined by our response to our experiences… 🙂
This is compelling and beautifully sad.
Thanks a lot. Happy that it moved you.
Dear Rachael, This is a knockout–so evocative and poignant, and done so effectively in so few words, as appreciated above. You have captured, too, what I feel about my dad…even as I write this my eyes well up. I also appreciate your insightful conversation above with the worldoutsidethe window about writing the tough stuff–very wise and helpful. Love to you, my friend.
It’s a really melancholic haiku, Chloe. I didn’t realise that until I posted it this morning and started getting responses. Then it made me cry. And that’s okay I guess.
What is so poignant is that it captured your feelings about your dad. It doesn’t get much better than that. Thank you. xx
Very touching haiku that moved me a lot. I love very much the way you write and would like to thank you for such graceful lines with your readers. My parents died in 1992. Maybe you’ll be interested in reading two poems I wrote for them.
Kind regards from France
You lifted my heart with your kind words. Thank you. I will look at the poems you wrote for them very soon.
And another mistake in my comment: for SHARING such graceful lines… sorry 🙂
Think nothing of it! I didn’t even spot anything was amiss… 🙂
Oh, my heart aches for you after reading this poem, Rachael. Such a simple but profound way to convey your grief. Hugs and love to you, dear friend.
Thank you, dear friend. It was a good thing to post this just now. It had been in my draft file for a while, and yesterday out it came. Love and hugs and your understanding is much valued 🙂
Both hauntingly beautiful and incredibly touching. A perfect testament, in my opinion, to how grief feels. The world is never quite the same after a loss and my heart goes out to you.
Thank you, Melissa. Sometimes I am so surprised that we manage to express such deep feeling through the medium of language. The emotion transcends the words…
Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:
You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. ( Log Out / Change )
You are commenting using your Twitter account. ( Log Out / Change )
You are commenting using your Facebook account. ( Log Out / Change )
You are commenting using your Google+ account. ( Log Out / Change )
Connecting to %s
Notify me of new comments via email.
Notify me of new posts via email.
You are currently reading fading at Changing Skin and other stories.
Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.