Hello
I came home (thankful that I was going to be seated on my couch for a while, after an exhausting morning on Youngest’s woodwalk) to the appalling news about the Grenfell Tower fire.
Again London. Again an amazing response from the community and, of course, the emergency services.
I watched homes being obliterated, reporters standing in front of a building that was STILL burning twelve hours later – and continued to glow orange through the rest of our day.
There had been sleeping families in there.
The stories just kept coming: of escape, of loss, of grief, of hope, of anger, of friendship, of heroism, of humanity…my heart is just so full for all those affected.
My head got overwhelmed from the barrage of images and accounts. Everything felt muffled, if that makes sense? Today’s words didn’t express what I wanted them to, and yet kind of did: from garrulous to a whisper.
I wish words could fix everything. I wish words had been heeded when the residents raised their fire-related concerns years ago. I wish the world did not work this way. I wish tragedy did not scream louder than logical argument and heartfelt reasoning.
Garrulous Bulb Slave Hanging Sad Paddle Seat Thread Whisper
My garrulous pen
Silent
As the bulb flickers
Annoyingly, overhead.
My electronic slave
Whirs
Out of shot.
For I am morose:
Sad, and
Adrift on a windless lake
Sans paddle or tide.
My seat creaks in protest
But
I’ve misplaced the vital thread –
A whisper unheard.*
[*I went back and forth over ending the poem with ‘unheard’ or ‘of fate’ but I think I like ‘unheard’ best? It fitted with how I was feeling about the voices of the Grenfell residents against the establishment, and is also the sound of a dropped thread…]
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June 15th, 2017 at 5:02 pm
I agree – quite awful news. Stanza 3 expresses your sadness nicely.
June 15th, 2017 at 5:08 pm
The scale of it is just devastating, and so avoidable! x
June 16th, 2017 at 1:06 pm
Your poem is amazing and speaks volumes.
June 16th, 2017 at 3:41 pm
Aww thanks 😶 x