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Your Voice

August 14, 2010
tags:

Your Voice
(for Big Tent Poetry)

The ordinary
brown label
incongruent
with the astonishing contents
held within the tape
held within the plastic case

my personal treasure
and torture
your voice
true through
all these years
(held within this tape
held within this plastic mausoleum)

you spring so lively
from the speakers
if I close
my eyes tight
and override the pain
(held within my chest
held within my own memory)
which continues to hum
with your death

it’s almost, almost
like I could reach out
and you’d be here
in all your splendid texture.

The ordinary
brown label
incongruent
with the astonishing contents
held within that time
held within our time together

my personal treasure
and torture
our love
true through
all these years
(held within my heart
held within my still beating heart).

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16 Comments leave one →
  1. August 14, 2010 16:45

    “it’s almost, almost
    like I could reach out
    and you’d be here
    in all your splendid texture.”

    I loved this stanza!

    half-way through

  2. tillybud permalink
    August 14, 2010 20:27

    This is so sad, but nicely done.

    http://thelaughinghousewife.wordpress.com

  3. August 14, 2010 22:51

    Yes, so sad, but very lovely to read…
    I heard a recording of my grandfather’s singing, a man who had died before I was born. Just to hear it was as if I knew him and had lost someone very dear to me…

    • August 15, 2010 05:11

      I an imagine, Cynthia…I knew my Grampa and listening to the recordings had to happen years after he died. Even after all that time it was like a crack to the heart – but necessary.

  4. August 15, 2010 05:55

    Very nicely portrayed pangs! I like your comparison of the plastic tape cartridge to a mausoleum. Perfectly fitting to the relationship to the voice. I like the way you leave the story leading up to listening to the tape open. Any number of things could have happened, and because we are not old which to feel, we readers feel several of them, adding to the emotional impact. Very nicely done indeed!

  5. August 15, 2010 09:47

    This is a beautifully constructed poem – a elegy, of a kind – which touches the heart. It’s like phoning someone who’s husband has died and his answerphone message is left for all time, to comfort the widow: tears often ensue.

  6. August 15, 2010 18:36

    This is a beautiful, beautiful poem, and in its sadness you have also preserved a memory very special. You are lucky to still be able to listen to the voice……

  7. August 16, 2010 04:15

    Bittersweet – lovely read.

  8. August 17, 2010 16:24

    so beautiful and so true. i think sound touches the very soul- the sound of voice or any thing else.

  9. August 17, 2010 18:06

    Thanks everyone for commenting on my poem – it is one which is very dear to my heart so glad that it resonated with others as well. So often when you take a personal experience as a starting point for a poem the worry is it will be too insular to really communicate anything, so nice to know this isn’t the case. :)

  10. August 25, 2010 19:20

    miss your talent in my place..
    how are you?

  11. August 27, 2010 14:49

    http://jingleyanqiu.wordpress.com/2010/08/26/happy-birthday-2-lisa-plus-happy-belated/

    help giving happy belated birthday wishes to 5 to 10 poets,
    take the butterfly award,
    enjoy!

  12. metalguru permalink
    August 31, 2010 11:18

    Brilliant poem. I’ve a cassette which has been at the back of a drawer for 25 years which I’ve never been brave enough to listen to.

    • August 31, 2010 18:41

      I have only been able to listen to the tape twice in over 18 years…I never know if it’s because my Grampa sounds so present that it’s overwhelming, or the crashing knowledge that when I turn off the tape he’s gone again. Either way I know I need to get one of those USB tape converters, because part of me needs the tape even if it’s rarely heard.

      Also, thanks for taking the time to reply :)

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