(no subject)
I've been a little M.I.A. lately due to the course work of my senior year at university. However, my senior project is personal poetry about loss. So I'm going to be looking for a lot of criticism with my various pieces. I appreciate harsh, cosntructive criticism because I will be receiving a grade on my efforts in this project. I'm especially concerned with staying away from cliche and self-pity or too much self-involvement. [Compliments will make me smile too though. =)]
lung cancer
i only have one memory of uncle bob.
he sits on a fake brown leather chair,
a purple and red crocheted blanket
laying across his lap. he has a red bowtie
around his collared ghostly neck.
i am perched on the arm of the chair,
my blond curly hair tangled around my face.
the light reflects off his bald
head, and i'm crying.
his breath smells like chemotherapy
as he whispers that it will all
be ok and rubs my back.
with bear-like grunts, he reaches
behind the chair and pulls
out a grey teddy bear with
red velvet paws and a red bowtie.
i hug him to my chest
with my three-year-old hands.
he says that with this bear
i would always have someone
to call uncle bob.
lung cancer
i only have one memory of uncle bob.
he sits on a fake brown leather chair,
a purple and red crocheted blanket
laying across his lap. he has a red bowtie
around his collared ghostly neck.
i am perched on the arm of the chair,
my blond curly hair tangled around my face.
the light reflects off his bald
head, and i'm crying.
his breath smells like chemotherapy
as he whispers that it will all
be ok and rubs my back.
with bear-like grunts, he reaches
behind the chair and pulls
out a grey teddy bear with
red velvet paws and a red bowtie.
i hug him to my chest
with my three-year-old hands.
he says that with this bear
i would always have someone
to call uncle bob.