A Rook. A Ribcage. An Angel.

by Ben Pickard   Oct 7, 2017

Endeavouring to reach the rainbow's end,
I tore my butterfly's wings -
but you never let me fall.

You, who walked my cobblestone soul
these many long years
and tried to smooth the cracks;
who took the ramblings of a demented rook
and made songbirds' melodies from them anyway.

So emaciated am I now, you could beat a wretched
rhythm on my xylophone ribcage;
you could count iambic feet on my wasted knuckles:

da Dum da Dum da Dum da Dum
and then they would shatter.

I will not purport to having cried oceans -
dignity and hyperbole are natural foes;

I have cried tears. An ocean is water
but so is a tear.

So is a tear.


Ben Pickard 2017


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Latest Comments

  • 1 month ago

    by Risqué

    A beautiful, tragic representation of the one person who will stand by you regardless of your shortfalls.

  • 1 month ago

    by S s...

    Whatever style, format you choose to write, it always end up on a poetic gem.

  • 1 month ago

    by - Mr. Darcy

    Excellent work here, Ben.

    I'm reading and re-reading Under Milk Wood. I couldn't help finding some similar qualities with the smilies.

    Well done, Sorry it took me thus long to read and comment.

    Take care.

    • 1 month ago

      by Ben Pickard

      Under Milk Wood is marvellous, Michael. Thomas had a magical, effortless way with words. I have literally just read 'Do not go gentle into that good night' with the kids.

      Take care

  • 1 month ago

    by Ben Pickard

    Brenda and Gwenyth - thanks

  • 1 month ago

    by Brenda

    Ben, absolutely love this. With you taking your butterflies wings and ripping them off, yet she stayed with you, helping smooth out the bumps life gives us. She's been your angel, through good and bad and all the tears you've shed. As sad as this write is, it really is so very beautiful too and I feel hope too. Well done my friend-

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