image from wallpaperplay.com
Lullaby in Blues
“Some day we’ll all be gone, but lullabies go
on and on.”--Billy Joel.
Good night, my angel, Billy sang,
even though the villains did not hang,
and many of the punks joined the gang,
and the comic book guns said bang.
I heard it first
on the anniversary of my mother’s death,
recalling I never heard my son’s first breath,
as my actual daughter refused my parentage,
and my actual father remained a ghost,
calling my name on midnight’s tongue.
Lullabies,
I never heard them.
Lullabies,
I never wrote them, or sang them,
those damn ditties comprised
of divers strings;
wailing violins and throbbing cellos,
all bowing that one sustained chord
that always makes me,
allows me to weep;
because of the promises
I couldn’t keep,
failing those challenges
that were too steep,
as my shredded pride
lies in a heap,
since what’s terribly broken
runs so deep,
forcing me,
so like a child,
to muffle it all
as I sleep.
Glenn Buttkus
Posted over at dVerse Poets Pub
https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=6327165758377801408#editor/target=post;postID=9153129940233976704;onPublishedMenu=allposts;onClosedMenu=allposts;postNum=0;src=postname
19 comments:
Profound Glenn, Facts about you I never knew. I am feeling both sadness and frustration right now at what is very touching and that which seems unfair. I will not probe friend, just know I am moved.
Nice last three lines with "muffle it all".
Honest and moving Glenn, a whole novel behind those lines of poetry.
Must have been hard to write... much easier to keep them tucked away. A very raw poem...
ouch ....
So well done Glenn. I can feel the pain of being deprived of a loving childhood. Crying muffled in the night is what many of us do!
The tragic irony in finally getting something that resembles a childhood, a distorted lullaby muffled under the pillow. As Dwight hinted, your poem speaks volumes about the "terrible brokenness" of the world, felt in many of us.
I feel a deep well of sadness and sorrow in your words, about things wrapped carefully within. Sometimes lullabies are only fairy tales.
Childhood pervades in this poem, although it is a very adult pain, Glenn. We never lose our inner child, do we? I like the way you’ve used rhyme to evoke this and give it a jaunty feel among the very painful lines. The ones that pulled on my heart strings are:
‘…my actual father remained a ghost,
calling my name on midnight’s tongue’;
and
‘because of the promises
I couldn’t keep,
failing those challenges
that were too steep’;
and
‘forcing me,
so like a child,
to muffle it all
as I sleep’.
The raw and honest emotions that come through make this such a good poem.
I can hear that song numerous times with no adverse effect, but unprompted it can bring me to tears - tears of joy. Your words tell me how the opposite can be true, and I'm so sorry it has that effect on you.
A tough and tender poem, Glenn. Thanks for baring your soul and sharing the words...makes me want to cry and also makes me angry at the hurt experienced.
The connection between parent and child is always there and travels both directions, no matter the circumstances. So full of emotion and courage.
Oh Glenn, this is a heartbreaking read to be sure. Some pain never lessens, we only learn to move through it.
This had to be a tough poem to write, and share with others. It is sad and emotional.
These lines:
"Lullabies,
I never heard them.
Lullabies,
I never wrote them, or sang them,
those damn ditties comprised
of divers strings;"
The words "damn ditties" say so much....add a palpable depth of feeling here...anger, hurt, grief.
A powerful write, Glenn.
There is something immensely sad about a childhood lost... there is something you have have to live with...
Glen, Jane says it all, and she is usually careful in her praise, truly..., Such a good poem. Thos e things that are lost, found later only in muffled reflection, a persistent longing that won't shake awake. The world is broken, but at least is is all broken together and hearing such beautful longing binds it a bit. I think this is a very important poem, and as Bjorn says, immense, and as I say, simultaneously private and precise. The song doesn't make me cry, but the poem does. You are beautiful Glen.
Post a Comment