Commitment

You fearWhen I have won my prizeI walk awayTo leave youPick up the pieces of your stupidity. Death watches our dramaAs much a part to playAs lifeMine? Yours? Theirs?Red roulette in style We fear the death of selfOne becoming twoTwo share so muchTwo together can touchA part of one another Self searches bestBut rarely findsWrinkled hand to touch oldCompany in deathUnfold the element of chance

— seabhac, Jan 05, 2010

About the Author

Country/Region: GBR

Critiques

Candlewitch

16 years 5 months ago

hello

I find my mind much occupied with death lately. My mother died in January, a few years back and my sister is in failing health. Your poem blended with my mood. Good writing! Always, Cat

seabhac

16 years 5 months ago

Hello Cat

I have missed your company, I hope the new year finds you well and warm, a little cold here at -11 but a nice big stove going. I have not seen your work lately , I'll come knock on your door later. May makes me wistful for the same reason but at least there is green hope then...it is dark now and the mood can often follow that. My very best wishes to you Seabhac

Seren

16 years 5 months ago

Sorry to be rude Liz but I

Sorry to be rude Liz but I read your comment to Cat ,... I ahve often wondered how I would fare in the darkness of a northern winter ... we dont get that darkness even our days are blue just cold blue ... I love darkness but it can also overwhelm me sometimes ... but that big warm stove sounds nice though lol I feel like i am sitting in one at the moment your poems wonderful ... funny thing my mum died in january as well ... so I tend to be preoccupied with her anniversary each yr around this time ... and death hides in shadows of that i ahve no doubt lol one of the lines from an older poem of mine love and hugs keep warm Jayne-Chloe x x x

seabhac

16 years 5 months ago

Hi Jayne

You are not rude at all, this is an open space for discussion and this is the magic of words how they spark ideas and memories so no , it is lovely that you can join with us and talk about how this makes you feel. Funnily enough this poem has little to do with death and so much more to do with life and living and grabbing life with both hands because death is there always too. We do not accept death in or lives enough and we are always supprised when it calls. Maybe I just have a strange view of it. Hugs to you from a place where the light plays beautifully with the landscape. Hugs Seabhac

ziggy

16 years 5 months ago

hi i find the ending here

hi i find the ending here the strongest deep indeed , i feel the use of "two" being used 3 times in as many lines must be as you want , this reminds me of a line out of one of mine " through the circle of light walk through the white where beginning meets end in one continues bend " cheers ,ziggy

seabhac

16 years 5 months ago

And the cock crowed 3 times

Each denial a commitment...well sussed Ziggy . Yes the line from yours is also the perfect description of a Ger or Yurt. To touch 'old' alone is a sobering thought... there I go.... tactile me again. Thank you for taking the time to unravel the part of this that touched you... Seabhac

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