The love I feel for my family
doesn't behave in stanzas,
never knows what language it is,
is so powerful that I feel it in my bones
right next to the chronic but
in the ways all good things persist,
and when I lie down at night next
to my grandmother's urn we all
are pressed back to back,
just breathing.
About the Creator
R.C. Taylor
I write to invoke, to process, to honor, to resurrect, and—sometimes—to grieve but, above all, I write to be free.
Follow along for stories about a little bit of everything (i.e. nostalgia and other affairs of the heart).
Keep reading
More stories from R.C. Taylor and writers in Poets and other communities.
Getting Serious About Comedy (Part I)
If I were asked to remark on my life and the childhood that paved some road leading me to this point, I would have to say something about all the funny people who surrounded me for the last 26,872 days (and counting). Somewhere along that road, I became a big fan of laughter and the comedy that spawns it – and, I mean not only my own laughter, but the laughter of others, some of which I have actually been responsible for inducing.
By John Oliver Smith3 days ago in Humor
Comments (4)
Sorry 4 your loss. This was a beautiful tribute to your loved ones!
I love how the pic you selected compliments the familial love so beautifully expressed in your poem. I’m also fascinated by the idea that powerful emotion has its own unintelligible language. I think we might experience diminishment if we could translate it into words.
What a beautiful experience, one I am truly grateful you have and admire. To feel that connection to your family and ancestry, it’s truly humbling and an honour. I hope to at the least create that in my life if I can.
Really beautiful juxtapositions here. What inspired this?