Friday, February 20, 2009

The price

These hard times
have eaten you to the bone,
beneath bone,
skeleton of a skeleton,
an echo of who you were
when you were flesh
and movement and desire;
when you refracted life’s heat
as the sun’s ferocity
ricocheted off the tarmac
those dog-days.

Your hollow face, this alone
tells why you can’t read
even these words, respond
in song or verse or laughter, carve
anything living from the death
trophy you hold so close,
a grotesque substitute
for what you have lost.

These hard times
have stolen from me
the friend I lost and found
and for that
I curse them, curse them,
and curse them three times over
to make it truth.

Rachel Westfall
February 19, 2009


Faith said...

I almost can't bear the truth and beauty within this sorrowful poem. I want your words to be on my walls so I can see them all the time.

Again, I think you touch so deeply into the collective experience...I am not sure what I mean, but Rachel your poetry just soars into the heart and soul.

confused said...

a story that is repeated in more than one life..well written

Karen said...

The pain of this is palpable - and universal. You express something I have felt, only you express it beautifully.

christopher said...


I Tell You Three Times

This is a truth of
open spirit, this threeness,
triune spell of love
given, a spear to
the heart of the fallen world
that impregnates those
who are ripe for it
and even stirs the wind chimes
of those still not ripe.

RachelW said...

Faith, I wish I could heal everything I touch... wouldn't that be great?

Confused, thanks for the visit and the comment-- I'm happy to have found your work.

Karen, yeah I think we have all felt it, and wished we could undo the damage that has been done.

Christopher, you are a wonderful soul; thank you for the gift of these words. and even stirs the wind chimes... This is such a rewarding image.

Faith said...

I think you touch with words and heal so many who read.

RachelW said...

Faith, :0) :0) Thank you for saying that!

Poetikat said...

"Your hollow face" - speaks volumes. So many "hollow faces" out there - on our streets, in cold, nasty apartments, in gigantic many. There's like this inner device in you that reaches out and taps into the universe and draws out a piece of its core to lay before us. So gifted.


Linda S. Socha said...


This is so fine ...and heart touching and a word rapture. On reading this healing piece, I wish I had laughter in the palm of my hand to give you for your pocket where it just waited for your touch

RachelW said...

Thanks Linda, and Kat... Linda, that is such a beautiful thing to wish for.

Julie said...

Rachel, I can't even begin to describe what this poem does to me. The power of your words always leaves me gasping for breath. You are one amazing poet, and I am so glad to have the opportunity to read your work.