Tomorrows Are Never Promised

Tomorrows Are Never Promised

A Poem by Poppy Ruth Silver
"

In memory of my Nan...

"


Death will f**k you up
without malice of forethought
familiar chair
empty
curtains
half closed
hideous mug
now mine
blood swilled stomach
bloated from malpractice
broken bones
splintered neglect
then the painful pangs 

to speak to you again
about strawberries and the sea
the way you combed my hair
about nothing inparticular
then the empty chair
cold and threadbare
fate has returned me to Decemberland
where more than one ghost now roams




©2017 PoppySilver


© 2017 Poppy Ruth Silver



Author's Note

Poppy Ruth Silver

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Reviews

This poem brings back memories of my own. It goes straight to the heart. It's so hard to see a person go from superhuman to not being with us at all anymore. As a child who spent a lot of time with my grandmother growing up, seeing the depictions of the possessions left behind was something that really haunted me.

Posted 1 Month Ago


Scary and so full of emotion
about the subject
those remaining reminders that often tell us
to never forget the loss of life.

Posted 2 Months Ago


Very well done, can feel the emotion

Posted 3 Months Ago


Working in a nursing home, I see the brokenness of residents even into their final days...so sad to see, but they do touch your heart...

Posted 4 Months Ago


She was a beautiful and strong woman. Forever in the memories of the loved ones.

Posted 4 Months Ago


When I visited my 92 year old grandmother in a nursing home just days before she died, I thought of how she would have hated looking the way she did...with no rouge, no lipstick and her hair combed straight back. I always called her "Nan", and everyone who knew her, did also. This broke my heart, conjuring up those feelings once again, just like you have a way of doing!

Happy new year, my dear friend, and may God bless! xo

Posted 4 Months Ago


Kelly Scheppers

4 Months Ago

The photo of her is gorgeous, Poppy...she looks so vibrant and happy!
Such a sad write. Certain months are more difficult than others and bring up poignant memories. Such soft love in this one...the way you combed my hair....heavy sigh. May memories comfort you a bit as you ring in the New Year and may 2018 be a great year for you, Poppy. Lydi**

Posted 4 Months Ago


I agree dear friend. Death steal from us. All we can do is remember them and keep some keepsakes of them. People who loved us. Become a part of us. I hope you are doing okay.
Coyote

Posted 5 Months Ago


Oh Poppy, what a hellish way to feel, to express your pain in such icy tones. Hurt burns into the heart at times.. takes so long to cool the scar.. if ever.

Gentle hugs... prayers and thoughts..

'.. .. the painful pangs
to speak to you again
about strawberries and the sea
the way you combed my hair
about nothing inparticular
then the empty.. .. '

Beautifuly, harshly, expressed sadness..


Posted 5 Months Ago


Thank you for writing the first truly realistic poem about death that I've ever read! This is the poster child for "show instead of tell" . . . you put the reader in a frame of mind where I can palpably feel the torturous sensations of living thru the death (or worse yet, the slow dying) of a beloved *eeeeek!* But on a different note, here's wishing you & your loved ones a peace & love filled Christmas (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

Posted 5 Months Ago



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Added on December 3, 2017
Last Updated on December 3, 2017

Author

Poppy Ruth Silver
Poppy Ruth Silver

United Kingdom



About
Merry Meet, welcome to my page. I write mainly poetry but I also write stream of thought prose. I also create spoken word poetry and have a couple of novels on the go (dust covered albeit;) My firs.. more..

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