Lost between the words
is true meaning
the real message
perhaps the marriage
perhaps the correct diagnosis.
We all use metaphors
similes
when describing emotions and pains.
Doctors and spouses
should by rights be poets
for poetry conveys what is lost in translation.
Copyright © 2017 Kim Whysall-Hammond
A poem inspired by the quote:
Poetry is what gets lost in translation.
Robert Frost
Reading on a screen is a hollow sham
Handling a real book
Feeling it’s weight
Looking at its cover
(Often old fashioned)
Turning paper pages
The way a second hand poetry book
Can fall open at a poem
That was once loved
And repeatedly read
By a stranger
All pleasure
Copyright © 2017 Kim Whysall-Hammond
Another part of the daily challenge I’m following for a short while. This poem is in response to the prompt ‘pleasure’.
My dearest friends do not live close
Scattered across Europe and far beyond
Yet always close to my heart
Even if I cannot see them
Or hug them
When I would want to
Copyright © 2017 Kim Whysall-Hammond
Part of the daily challenge I’m following for a short while. This poem is in response to the prompt ‘Friend’.
It is your eyes that pierce me
Bright baby blue
In Sicily they marked you
Erroneously
As German
In Jordan, both men and girls followed you
Hoping to see your wonderful eyes again
It is your eyes that hold me
Windowing your soul
In your much loved face
Copyright © 2017 Kim Whysall-Hammond
For my love, and part of the daily challenge I’m following for a short while. This poem is in response to the prompt ‘Face’.
Duvet deep, traitor mind fishing worries
What if, why, random fears and wretchedness
Ghosts of the day parade
Surf past on a sickening tide, clasp at my heart
Until your warm arms exorcise
Copyright © 2017 Kim Whysall-Hammond
You unmasked me
With your honesty and affection
At seventeen, I knew loneliness
Until you unmasked me
Showed me the world made new by you
You unmasked me
I no longer needed to hide away
Lost in my own family
You gave me your life, our life
We have made a new family
Unmasked
Copyright © 2017 Kim Whysall-Hammond
Each siesta, my gecko came
Skittering across the mottled ceiling
Dancing over paint flakes
Lengthening his neck to peer down
At me
He would not leave his hiding hole
Until I laid me down to rest
In the Sicilian noonday heat
Then two sparkling gleaming eyes
Held vigil
Halfway between stick and snake
Sandy spiky little friend
Padded feet gripping to defy gravity
My curious Gecko watched over me
Literally
Once his powers failed him
And he plopped down onto my chest
I woke to see him face to face
And find in those eyes
Understanding
Copyright © 2017 Kim Whysall-Hammond
We wade though the bright grass
Tired, footsore, happy
Hearing a bird calling by the reeds
Notes curling amongst themselves,
Spinning through the warm air
Distantly, traffic busies itself,
Here, tranquility reigns,
After a full night dancing,
We walk.
Copyright © 2016 Kim Whysall-Hammond
(written after a Ball at Wolfson College, Oxford, hence the photo)
Re-blogged from 2016
I have loved you for so long
That the moon has moved measurably in its orbit
Islands have grown, jungles fallen
Empires have been toppled
I loved you as a youth
And now at the apogee of your prime
I love you still
Copyright © 2017 Kim Whysall-Hammond
…and all of this is true…..
………the Moon has retreated 132 cm from the Earth since we first kissed………
Duvet deep, traitor mind fishing worries
What if, why, random fears and wretchedness
Ghosts of the day parade
Surf past on a sickening tide, clasp at my heart
Until your warm arms exorcise
Copyright © 2017 Kim Whysall-Hammond
