Nicholas Hughes (1962 – 2009)
The spaces echo empty
Vast black, an eclipse
Of all memory of light
Of solid form.
Nothing lives. Nothing dies.
No conflict or oxygen
Nourish the blood pulse.
It is the longed-for oblivion
Desperate and craved
Annihilation.
A million splintered filaments
Hurled by one’s own hand
So the hand, too – crumbles
Melts and vanishes
Without a history.
Though the void cannot hear
A static radio call
A sister’s eulogy
A husband’s poetry
Splinters are left for the living
Shards of the bomb in their hearts
Inoperable. Holes and spaces
Sewn closed. Locked.
Oblivion.
...
One of my favourite songs is Bob Dylan's 'Tangled up in Blue.' In an interview, Dylan said he aimed to portray a tangled relationship from multiple points of view. He does so well - very well. It's Dylan lyrics at their best, and I'm a writer at heart, so I can't go past some well woven lines.
"From what I've tasted of desire...I hold with those who favour fire."
I suppose this poem has a similar aim: to examine both sides of suicide. The desperate, single-minded intent of the perpetrator, and the living left to shoulder the blame, account for the mess, seek to understand. And sometimes I think there is nothing to understand. As the Holocaust survivor said in The Reader: "If you want catharsis, go to the theatre. Nothing comes out of the camps."
Or the very famous line by Jewish poet after WWII: "No poetry after Auschwitz." As if to say, here lies humanity at its darkest. Its most irrational. Its twisted and broken ends. There is no meaning here. Just consequence. Action taken to see what would happen. To watch the world burn.
...
Posts
