Ghost
Posted: 01 May 2004
Word Count: 80
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there is so much of him
here, in this white room,
my home
my thinking place
there he is,
in the twelve
cut paper circles
he placed
on the ceiling
above my bed
on each of these
he drew felt-tipped flowers
gave them all
fictitious names
and me the comfort
of a love once shared
the papers edges curl now
and shadows from the
upturned light
give them wings, as if
delicate creatures
that might take flight
at any moment.
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Comments by other Members
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 Nell at 06:52 on 03 May 2004
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Cat, this is tender and beautiful, with a delicate mystery running through. We wonder who 'he' is - a father, brother, lover? And where is he now, has he flown like the paper circles - which I can't help naming and seeing as butterflies - or is he really in the spirit world? It's perfect not to know, but just to wonder.
Nell.
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 roovacrag at 10:24 on 03 May 2004
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I agree with Nell.
Touching piece,loving someone and seeing the the little things he left behind. Full of emotion and despair.
Well done
xx Alice
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 joanie at 14:38 on 03 May 2004
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Lovely, Cat. I love the opening, which makes me want to know more........ and, like Nell, to be happy to wonder... I can really visualise the paper circles.
joanie
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FelixB at 14:49 on 03 May 2004
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Cat, a light and beautiful study of introspection and loss - very intimate and memorable. Particularly the final image which speaks to me of the interplay between the impermanence of the 'things' we leave behind versus the permanance of memories of a loved one....
best,
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engldolph at 18:27 on 03 May 2004
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yes, I echo what has been said above..
the image of being on your back looking up at a memory immediately captures the feeling of loss and inertia
I sensed more of the loss of a lover..
the curling papers with wings captured the fragility of love..
liked it
Mike
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 James Graham at 10:57 on 04 May 2004
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One of the best poems we've had on WW, I think. The paper circles and felt-tipped flowers are something very particular that we can all visualise. They make it very real. And the way you transform them into winged creatures, with the sad irony that they are old now and curling at the edges, is beautiful. The fantasy of birds or butterflies flying away comes directly out of the sense of loss and of time passing.
There are some qualities in a poem that are hard to talk about, because they're rather elusive, they're about the kind of communication that's taking place in the poem. The voice in this poem seems absolutely genuine. There's nothing worked up or artificial, the reader believes it right away, on the first reading.
I could analyse the rhythm, but there's no need to. The broad rhythm of the phrasing, and line-breaks, reads just right, and I think the poem would be very effective - and affecting - if read aloud. One bit of analysis: at 'upturned light/give them wings', and at the next line-break too, there are consecutive strong stresses, double emphasis, and this forces a momentary pause so that the reader (or listener) has the impression that these thoughts are just occurring to the speaker. A v.g. lyrical poem, simple but never prosaic, moving.
James.
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Cat at 23:50 on 04 May 2004
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Nell, Alice, Joanie, Felix, Mike
Many thanks for your all your comments - I wrote this a while ago, but never brought it out from my notebook, so its good that it's effective. Felix, I'm glad it seems light to you, although I was sad when I wrote it (yes, Mike, while thinking about an ex-lover)I remember enjoying that kind of almost film-like spacious quality of seeing things that such a change/loss can bring about...does that make sense?
James,
many thanks for all your comments, much appreciated. I wrote this in response to a creative writing exercise about our personal spaces. All I could see was this absence, but at the same time really enjoying the space!! Great to get some technical feedback too, thanks very much.
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James Graham at 11:01 on 06 May 2004
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You've summed it up very well - it's about absence and loss, but you're enjoying the 'empty' space. No space is quite empty. Creative writing exercises can be a bit artificial at times, but certainly not this one!
James.
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