A Wake


  • Death

    Poem Commentary

    La vie et mort vont de pair. L'eau est le thème central de la vie. Ainsi ils disent.

    A Wake

    I cross over
    Water cold and clear in a placid lake
    At full throttle
    An old motor boat leaves a curling wake

    Currents pool and eddy
    Waters twist and churn
    And fade and fade

    I am interned
    For the living and their sake
    Many an empty bottle
    At a grand ol’ Irish wake

    Lives pool and eddy
    Lives twist and churn
    And fade and fade

    I comingle
    You hear the words spoken
    As often with tears and sincerity ground
    As often somewhat glib and distant

    A verbal grieving token
    A casket, a jig, another round
    But the grief a measurable constant

    I depart
    The grieving mingle at the wake
    Tears on the floor whisky in the bottle
    Not for the dead, but for the livings sake

    They gather like motes in a stream, pool and eddy
    Their voices spike, twist and churn
    I walk out the door their voices fade and fade

    I contemplate
    That night in bed as I lie awake
    On water flowing and shed, and an Irish whisky bottle
    That should have been for the dead not the livings sake

    Currents pool and eddy
    Waters twist and churn
    And fade and fade

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    koolmom0 commented on A Wake


    Winter...This is a sad one. Whiskey can only relieve heartache for a short while, but memories come back. Awesome write my friend. :) Kool



    Sad... it started out as a play on words... Boat Wake, Funeral Wake, Awake.... The bottle rhymes with throttle good luck finding good rhymes with that... gottal? It was more about people and how when someone dies the churning wake they cause like the motor boat's passing. And added myself into the poem in terms of movement and death... to tie it together. I.E. I pass over, I depart... So the whole is about movement and death being the motor boat... aka the ferry across the water Charon.

    ginga commented on A Wake


    as per usual Winter an interesting story with wonderful repetitions and also a mortal message that stings the heartstrings. The old Irish Whiskey gives some relief if only for those few hours. ginga



    Have you been to an Irish Wake? :)

    Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

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