My brother sits on mother’s shelf
In sombre hues of grey
Like flower plucked and soon to fade
But captured for a day
The wringing hands and ceaseless tears
One week stretched out for many years
But jealous fortune would not yield
and Jacob died a month today
My brother was a perfect joy
born on the 4th of May
His face was like an angel’s doll
in almost every way
But now in silver gelatin
His lifeless eyes are glazed
The image captures nothing of
his spirit, bright and gay
But rather seems there is a glint
of predjudice in place
of love and trust that was his way
I fear to look, I fear to stay
Is it only my unsettled mind
in truth I cannot say
I heard the servants muttering
“That picture gives me chills
I’ll no more stay in this ‘ere house
I’m leaving, so I will”
The clock moves not, the shadows creep
Our mother no more cares to speak
But sits in front of brother’s shelf
And mutters madly to herself
Now no-one in this house will sleep
Till Jacob goes away.
Post Mortem
I was creeping myself out looking at Victorian post mortem photography, the fashion of taking pictures of dead loved ones… I scribbled this gothic poem and creeped myself out even more thinking about it. I’ll have to do an art piece to match it one day.
Paul Compton, 4 months ago
The first line is chilling and the ending more so. I adore Victorian memento mori photographs. Very haunting stuff, Garth.
Garth Horsfield in reply to Paul Compton’s comment, 4 months ago
Ta Paul… like I said, I kind of creeped myself out with that vision.
nannamanson, 4 months ago
I love your poem. Nothing creeps me out 8-) I happen to really like post mortem photography and have a collection. This site has more than I have ever seen – check it out –
www.thanatos.net
Garth Horsfield in reply to nannamanson’s comment, 4 months ago
Oh thanks for the tip nannamanson. I get an odd feeling looking at those old pics and seeing the harshness of people’s lives in their worn faces. It’s all very gothic, in the true sense of the word.
TLeeHoney, 3 months ago
very Edgar Allen Poe in its timing, Garth … creepy yet poetic – the last stanza is chillingly succinct ;o)
Garth Horsfield in reply to TLeeHoney’s comment, 3 months ago
Thanks TLee. I don’t write very much, but now and then I get the urge to break out some candles and gloom myself out :)
TLeeHoney, 3 months ago
Heheh! I love indulging in those moments – rusty, dripping pipes, chilled air and steaming bath, dark but for the quick flickering of candles shadowing catherdral ceilings… oops, sorry delightfully glooming m’self out!!!! Love it! ......
Garth Horsfield in reply to TLeeHoney’s comment, 3 months ago
hehehe
Joanne Marie Shaw, about 1 month ago
Great insight into the deepest pain.