Slovo Ljubavi (The Word Of Love) - For Francesca Poem by Dónall Dempsey
Slovo Ljubavi (The Word Of Love) - For Francesca
Here I am
nailed to this hated bed
with the bright shiny
nails of cancer.
Death smiles
& wants to take me
as his
bride
but I
remain unfaithful
to him
elope with life
(if only for this night)
spending golden moments
as if there were no
tomorrow.
I fling my laughter
in his big stupid grinning face
as if he thinks
this is all a human is
a something to be
taken.
I hope to sneak out
when he is not looking
or looking the other way
before he discovers me
alive in your heart
(untouchable)
my memory
safe in your memory
so that to kill me
he will have to kill you too.
So beware my friend
you will become
a marked man
& Death
cheated of my soul
will hunt you
down
and rip me from
your heart
to finish the job.
But I know
you will
hide me
hide me
among your words
little seeds
of me
that will propagate
so that Death
would have to kill the whole world.
I laugh to see
the little seedlings
of me
sprout in other
minds
other voices
see my laughter
blossom
on a strange
tongue
unknown to me
but known
Death furiously
glaring.
Painful but playful too, cheating death of the satisfaction of his triumph. As Allie says, hugely uplifting. Fx
Defiant to the end and beyond...your words living in the soul of others...just has to be one of the most profound statements I have ever read as to why we, as writers, write! Our own piece of immortality, the bits of our souls that live on, defying Death! Wonderful, wonderful writing.
You use metaphor to stunning effect in this painfully arresting poem about death and disease and the timeless power of the creative force. You personalize death in order to be able to deal with him and his '...bright shiny nails of cancer'. It would seem that the depths of a life can be the most powerful springboard for its creative brilliance. I am moved by your story and uplifted by your determination. love, Allie ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/3/2024 6:01:04 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Gosh Donall, you really know how to slay us with your words don't you? This is gorgeous, though it shouldn't be, should it? So glad that you played death at his own game (and won!) HG: -) xx