INSPIRATION
Born of pain
Fashioned by lust
It falls as blossoms
From the tree
Where once I grew
And found my voice
It speaks to me of
Past, of They
Whose constancy
Remains
Exploding as chosen words
That find my soul.
FORGIVENESS
When did it start?
My soul first wept
The heavy drops of deception
And swept my shelter
Into the storm
The loss of faith
In love refused
Glistening tears
Redemptive breath
Restores my whole
I can forgive.
About the Creator
Marie McGrath
Things that have saved me:
Animals
Music
Sense of Humor
Writing
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Love Letters Through Time
Context: Grace (Gráinne) Gifford, was a participant in the Irish nationalist struggle against British rule, which led to ‘The Easter Rising’, Easter Monday, 1916 in Dublin, Ireland. She was betrothed to one of the leaders, who were due to be executed the morning after being taken prisoner. Joseph and Grace were married the night before in his prison cell. Joseph (Seosamh Pluinceid)) was one of the leaders of The Rising, a signatory of the Irish Proclamation and, in death, a revered Irish hero. These are my imaginings of ‘her’ final words to him. I include a few words in Irish Gaelic as the movement that led to the rebellion favored speaking Irish, instead of English. I would wager a guess, as they were both poets and writers in the Irish republican movement that she would have chosen to marry her love of country with her love of him in expressing her devotion.
By Marie McGrathExclusive • 12 months ago
Foot Bindings
I asked my grandmother how she knew she'd fallen in love. I am not sure I ever did love him, she said. This was before I met my husband. I was naive, a naked spring, a raw nerve of a thing. That cannot ever be me, I knew. Sadness swept in gently like a Moscow thaw. It is no simple thing, looking into a woman's vast soul and seeing its foot bindings. Now, in Italy divorced with my skin singed off, when I say I don't love him mean: I have succeeded at feeling nothing most days and it mostly works. Do you want the comfort of Nothing? Do you want Nothing, too? Be warned: you'll never be free, even when you are nothing. Here is what doesn't work: Accepting the stages of grief. Talking about it. Sitting with the feeling. Missing him—no, the person you were when you believed in death do us part. Writing poetry. That, too. When I say I don't love him I mean: I feel capsized in an endless, starved tide. What sometimes works: selective memory. You must forget ripe tomatoes and his beard and feeling perfectly sheltered in a big blue world. Forget coffee in bed, laughter watching TV, blowing out the candles on the birthday cake and the quiet all-encompassing knowledge that you are chosen. Remember only how love turned to a banal everyday survival act, a trapeze act unsure whether he will catch you, how the warmth stagnated and became sour, remember the foot bindings and remember the resentment boiling in your veins as you stick it out for the kids. Six-hour Netflix binges help, too. A man's fingers tracing your spine. Frozen pizza at 2 a.m. Random trips to the museum just to stand near things that last a while. The realization that crying won’t change anything. Seeing that life is just a dream, and refusing to participate in your own suffering. Bite your fist. Walk on eggshells around joy. When I say I don't love him, I mean he didn’t break my heart, he just stopped touching it and it forgot how to beat right.
By Ella Bogdanova5 days ago in Poets
The Lesions of Devotion
Every day I set myself down on the freshly cut lawn and strip myself bare. I take my guitar and finger the frets and pick at the strings, listening for dissonance. My life is dissonance. I twist the tuning pegs until each string sounds bright. Then I kneel, calves pointing behind me, kneecaps facing forward. All exposed to the breeze. I close my eyes and play the melody.
By Paul Stewart7 days ago in Fiction
Comments (4)
⚡💙⚡
I love how inspiration and finding your voice are so connected, and the theme of redemptive forgiveness-- Chopra said something like you owe it to yourself to forgive others- you should not have to hold anger etc. caused by another. excellent writing
Excellent ✍️♦️🏆♦️
Yes forgiveness is the way to life ...very well said❤️