I had In The Neighborhood stuck in my head last night, so I went on a 2 hour Tom Waits jag. I've seen him referenced twice since then. We live in Waitsian times.
Reminds me of Paul Watson’s story of a dying sperm whale harpooned by Russian whalers whose last dying throws were spent looking in Watson’s eyes as it dove one last time before dying.
Watson has gotten between the whale and the harpooner but the harpoon still found its mark. His story is also a poignant realization that the whale seemed to understand what Watson was trying to do, and avoided crashing into Watson’s boat before sinking below the waves.
“I will remember your small room, the feel of you, the light in the window, your records, your books, our morning coffee, our noons, our nights, our bodies spilled together, sleeping, the tiny flowing currents, immediate and forever. Your leg, my leg, your arm, my arm, your smile and the warmth of you who made me laugh again.” ~Charles Bukowski
Thank you Ms. Johnstone, for this profoundly sad and poignant piece. The planet is dying and the oligarchs and powers that be only sit back and cackle at the misfortune of others, whose misery and suffering are in their view, not worth spending effort to care about. Species die off, never to return, and the planet and ecosystems experience a grim death. My hope is that we can do something to stop it before it is too late
Thank you Caitlin. Beauty in the harshness. You are my Hero.
The poetry reminds one of a Tom Waits tune and one can hear Tom singing this powerful song.
I had In The Neighborhood stuck in my head last night, so I went on a 2 hour Tom Waits jag. I've seen him referenced twice since then. We live in Waitsian times.
Me too. So much of Tom Waits' work rings of defiant joy, just like this poem by Caitlin and Tim.
As soon as I read it, I thought, “ultra-dystopian interpretation of Tom Waits”.
Powerful & poignant Caitlin. You are our voice & your words tell the true story & are awakening us all, hopefully before it’s too late. ❤️
Reminds me of Paul Watson’s story of a dying sperm whale harpooned by Russian whalers whose last dying throws were spent looking in Watson’s eyes as it dove one last time before dying.
Watson has gotten between the whale and the harpooner but the harpoon still found its mark. His story is also a poignant realization that the whale seemed to understand what Watson was trying to do, and avoided crashing into Watson’s boat before sinking below the waves.
Beautiful Caitlin.
The title alone is enough to make my heart come up into my throat 💔
Such a beautiful lament. You inspire me to write as well. May you inspire us all.
Reading your poem, I pictured a desolate wasteland , where there was no birdsong, no breeze, only rubble ,and a little girl lost and alone.
Wow
“I will remember your small room, the feel of you, the light in the window, your records, your books, our morning coffee, our noons, our nights, our bodies spilled together, sleeping, the tiny flowing currents, immediate and forever. Your leg, my leg, your arm, my arm, your smile and the warmth of you who made me laugh again.” ~Charles Bukowski
TY Caitlin & Tim.
Walk in the stars as well as the oceans, Caitlin, you can't limit yourself.....
Thank you, Caitlin. Your voice is a wake-up call to us all. The words are beautiful yet full of horror.
😭 … heartbreakingly true
Thank You Caitlin
Thank you Ms. Johnstone, for this profoundly sad and poignant piece. The planet is dying and the oligarchs and powers that be only sit back and cackle at the misfortune of others, whose misery and suffering are in their view, not worth spending effort to care about. Species die off, never to return, and the planet and ecosystems experience a grim death. My hope is that we can do something to stop it before it is too late
The Stolen Child
Where dips the rocky highland
Of Sleuth Wood in the lake,
There lies a leafy island
Where flapping herons wake
The drowsy water-rats;
There we've hid our fairy vats,
Full of berries
And of reddest stolen cherries
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a fairy, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping
than you can understand...
WB Yeats
For the complete poem check out the Waterboys' version on Fisherman's Blues