Grieving

Everything and Nothing – Day Three


The Art of Losing

Thought of the Day by Maria Fokas

The Art of Losing

– Elizabeth Bishop wrote: “The art of losing isn’t hard to master.”

With so much losing every day, it seems that we should be accepting it as an inevitable end; but we rarely do. Every time we fall in love with a moment, a unique person, or that life long accomplishment, its fragile end is always near; it seems.

– But what exactly is it that we grieve; the moment, the person, the accomplishment; or is it ourselves within that loss? Everything we’ve ever loved, and lost, has shaped us into who we are. So there cannot be a complete loss in losing; I keep telling myself.

– I am grateful for War, and Love Poets; they take refuge in the pain of losing, knowing our lives depend on it. We plunge into those worlds and embrace the darkness. When it’s war, we mourn, and when it’s love, it’s a beautiful depiction of life. With their words, we realize that we are not alone in our losing; maybe, we even give meaning to our loss.

A Poet’s muse marks a moment by opposing every norm of its time; it elevates love as the essence of truth, rendering it more precious within the element of loss.

But, about this destined precious existence with an inevitable end; I don’t want to master this art of losing.

 

Anticipated Memories


 Anticipated memories IM

Anticipated Memories

The wickedness of collapse, is that it comes in idle whispers.

It takes you in its arms; numbing the yearning to dream.

In quiet steps, it alters the world you thought was real.

The present is misplaced, and in the depths of darkness you descend.

You see a glimpse of truth in your attempt to trust.

A faint spark of memory keeps coming back;

There it is; nearest to your heart, that little thing called love.

My muse had a charming way of bringing back the dead.

   – In all its imperfections, it was a perfect World.

Anticipated Memories; love remembered never goes astray.

Like notes of a forgotten melody; of a luring hidden moonlight –

In quiet steps, it takes back every moment you called love.

Within empty spaces of time, a struggle to recall.

The wickedness of collapse, is that it comes in idle whispers.

[Dedication to Robin M. Williams]

© Picture Credits: source/vmburkhardt.tumblr.com –

 

 

Sparks of Light


Free Bird

Sparks of Light by Maria Fokas

Torn to shreds by spite;
But it will pass, like all misfortunes do.
Our greatest fears come true, sometimes;
Truths which scar the soul –
But it is not the silence which breaks me;
It is what silence leaves behind in its passing –

And in my grieving moment;
The defeat is not of a lost love.
I fought for you with all my might;
As if it were my last battle –
How can we know the truth from a lie?
Surely not by generous manners –
Could it be by a gentle touch, when hardships roar?

I have seen men claiming to be generous; who were the greediest of all –
I have seen men alleging to be gentle; who were merely vile tyrants.
And I have seen men declare their bravery; though nothing but cowards;
Men falling in tantrums like spoilt children, cruel and malice.

But I was fortunate to keep those tormenters astray.
I gave my heart to an unusual man who made promises;
To protect me from his fury and from his rage, and I know you tried;

And so I have no regrets today.
And whether I was haste, or foolish;
Giving you the benefit of the doubt; on all occasions –
It was because – my weaknesses were rife.
And though my faults were countless;
My vow to you was never meant to change.

In this end, I will be mocked;
Endless whispers of insincere pity; will ravage me –
And while they smile in my presence;
I will feel their scorn.

But regardless of the madness –
The struggles, and the pain,
I did not lose a breath of life;
Because I have loved with all my heart.

So no matter what tomorrow brings,
You will remember all those things.
And though you never believed in me:
I will miss the times of laughter;
And I will miss the times you held my tears –

But most of all,
What will be missed;
Is the time I thought you loved me –

© Maria Fokas 2015/All Rights Reserved – Photograph by Maria Fokas, at Corfu; Paleokastritsa