Thinking of End of King Lear In A Backyardish Way
Thinking of End of King Lear In a Backyardish Way
Never, never, never, never, never
tugs at my eyes, the retinae hung
with ropey cords; those I’ve loved/lost
rumpled cloths
upon those lines, stiff
as boards now, frayed
capture-the-flag wisps.
I want, foolishly, to weep them back
to softness, only the never in which I live
makes tears dry down, allows just
the collapse of salt,
the damp evening grass that lapped
imprints of even tip-toed steps
silted over. Though clumped sand seems stuck
in off-kiltered hour glass, still and ever,
it runs.
******************************
I am calling them all drafts for the moment for too many reasons to delineate. (One is that I am back in States, but still not home1 And not with my own computer.) This draft poem written for http//:withrealtoads.blogspot.com prompt re Shakespeare (whose birthday is in April.)
Tags: "My poor fool is dead", "never, April is the cruelest month, http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com, manicddaily, poem about King Lear
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ManicDDaily 
April 24, 2013 at 11:11 pm
I want, foolishly, to weep them back
to softness,
OH, that is beautiful … and sad. Welcome “almost” home.
April 25, 2013 at 8:41 am
Thanks so much, Margaret. k.
April 24, 2013 at 11:12 pm
Exquisite work with the opening metaphor, k–and the bell-like ringing of never(without that doleful Poe ‘more’ on the end) is crisp and heavy, both. The alchemy of tears can indeed melt the hardest things, but their drying away seems as painful as some living thing going extinct. And yes, the sand never stops. I’m sure there’s lots of Lear references I’m missing(not seen or read it since high school,) but the poem works for me just fine even so.
April 24, 2013 at 11:15 pm
still and ever it runs ~ very nicely done. Hope you get home safely….never fun to be away from familiar things…especially one’s own computer.
April 24, 2013 at 11:49 pm
your little elephant looks to be assimilating her environment. how you capture that look on a drawing of an elephant amazes me. This makes as little sense to me as Lear always does. The images however, are deeply evocative, as Lear’s always are. capture the flag memories being the most distinct and clumped sand thickly palpable. welcome (almost back) home.
April 25, 2013 at 8:40 am
Ha. Thanks. I confess that this was an old elephant that I modified a bit for this one, but glad you liked. k.
April 25, 2013 at 12:10 am
“to weep back to softness”
… and the elephant …
I just love this. 🙂
April 25, 2013 at 5:35 am
Wow! K, I am glad you made it to the party, doubly glad since you brought this brilliant draft. So many layers. I love the wash line–I had one in all of my performances back in the day. I also get the feeling of a sandbox and the fray. Childhood plays out these scenes without understanding them, while we fools (like Lear’s) cry tears behind frozen emotions and wisdom we dare not explain, not now. It is “only” the family laundry, only the ticking of our lives.
April 25, 2013 at 8:46 am
Thanks so much, Susan. I think your comment is probably more thoughtful than my poem, but I appreciate it. k.
April 25, 2013 at 8:22 am
Oh… this was great. You have such a wonderful way with words. I couldn’t pick a favorite line, it just kinda left me speechless…
April 25, 2013 at 10:22 am
Your poem has all the resonance of tragedy, enacted in ones own back yard. Great to see you are back in the garden (if not back home yet).
April 25, 2013 at 10:32 am
Ha, thanks, Kerry. I’ve been admiring your energy from afar, but commenting was a bit difficult. Great going with all you’ve done. k.
April 25, 2013 at 10:22 am
Lear, so dear and powerful. I like your draft. 🙂
April 25, 2013 at 12:44 pm
really nice k…the eyes hung on ropey cords…caught me up front…really nice progression from there as well…weeping them back to softness is a cool line as well..
April 25, 2013 at 1:35 pm
love the personification of the clothes here k… I want, foolishly, to weep them back
to softness…just wonderful