Life, Love, and Other Disasters
Viewing comments for Chapter 19 "Elephant in the Room"A collection of poems on these themes
38 total reviews
Comment from scd41
Your poem is amusing. You have narrated your exasperations on having(real or imagenary?) this unusual visitor. The very mention of banana twitched his ears. It's good that he did not say 'prices! my foot'
reply by the author on 28-Feb-2015
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Your poem is amusing. You have narrated your exasperations on having(real or imagenary?) this unusual visitor. The very mention of banana twitched his ears. It's good that he did not say 'prices! my foot'
Comment Written 27-Feb-2015
reply by the author on 28-Feb-2015
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Thank you.
Steve
Comment from mermaids
This is a unique poem about having a conversation with an elephant in the room. I like your use of lines and how you and the elephant are having tea and biscuits.
Excellent poetic form that takes the reader to tea with an elephant.
reply by the author on 28-Feb-2015
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This is a unique poem about having a conversation with an elephant in the room. I like your use of lines and how you and the elephant are having tea and biscuits.
Excellent poetic form that takes the reader to tea with an elephant.
Comment Written 27-Feb-2015
reply by the author on 28-Feb-2015
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Thank you.
Steve
Comment from Irish Rain
Awww...the ending here took me TOTALLY by surprise! This is terribly great. What a unique spin on a fragile situation..blessings to you and yours!
reply by the author on 28-Feb-2015
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Awww...the ending here took me TOTALLY by surprise! This is terribly great. What a unique spin on a fragile situation..blessings to you and yours!
Comment Written 27-Feb-2015
reply by the author on 28-Feb-2015
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Thanks for the kind words and the six stars.
Steve
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You are most welcome!
Comment from rstonerjr
Well this was a shocking write. I was all settled in enjoying the banter in such colorful language when I had the bucket kicked out from under me. I had an actual physical quake at the last line. I enjoyed your poem greatly without the last line but the end set this apart for me. I hope this is a fiction write.
reply by the author on 28-Feb-2015
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Well this was a shocking write. I was all settled in enjoying the banter in such colorful language when I had the bucket kicked out from under me. I had an actual physical quake at the last line. I enjoyed your poem greatly without the last line but the end set this apart for me. I hope this is a fiction write.
Comment Written 27-Feb-2015
reply by the author on 28-Feb-2015
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Thanks so much for the thoughtful review and the six stars.
My mother died in 2011. This relates to my last visit with her, three months before her death - I travelled from Australia to see her. There were very few outward signs of illness, but we both knew it would be the last time we would see each other. neither of us mentioned her illness and yes, I distinctly remember discussing the price of bananas.
Steve
Comment from Lovinia
Hi Steve
So poignant and perfectly expressed. When my father died (suddenly), 'his greyness' emerged for me. I would wake up each day going about the business of being ordinary. Everything seems so unreal and purposeless. I wondered, "Why is life going on when my father is dead?". The price of bananas, the 'specials' at Woolworths ... even chocolate biscuits held no interest ... my dad was dead, and nothing else changed. Now with an 89 year old mother, the elephant reappears. She's always been active and feisty ... she's slower now, still feisty. She raises her walking stick if that elephant gets in the way, and tells him off! No way is she gonna die!
The burden is great when we realise our time with a loved parent is almost over. You've conveyed all the meaning and two life-times in a few words. Contrasting a little dark humour with the love that is obviously there. Excellent metaphor with the elephant, I'm not sure if there is some adage about 'the elephant in the room', nothing comes to mind.
Some things can't be spoken, at least with our generation and our parents. I hope things will be more open with my own children, I hope I can make it less painful for them.
Your last couplet is magnificent in expression. A tear-jerker, yet so simplistic, and so complex at the same time. I hope this is fiction, if not, I'm pleased you could share your pain. Huge hugs - Lovi xoxo
reply by the author on 28-Feb-2015
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Hi Steve
So poignant and perfectly expressed. When my father died (suddenly), 'his greyness' emerged for me. I would wake up each day going about the business of being ordinary. Everything seems so unreal and purposeless. I wondered, "Why is life going on when my father is dead?". The price of bananas, the 'specials' at Woolworths ... even chocolate biscuits held no interest ... my dad was dead, and nothing else changed. Now with an 89 year old mother, the elephant reappears. She's always been active and feisty ... she's slower now, still feisty. She raises her walking stick if that elephant gets in the way, and tells him off! No way is she gonna die!
The burden is great when we realise our time with a loved parent is almost over. You've conveyed all the meaning and two life-times in a few words. Contrasting a little dark humour with the love that is obviously there. Excellent metaphor with the elephant, I'm not sure if there is some adage about 'the elephant in the room', nothing comes to mind.
Some things can't be spoken, at least with our generation and our parents. I hope things will be more open with my own children, I hope I can make it less painful for them.
Your last couplet is magnificent in expression. A tear-jerker, yet so simplistic, and so complex at the same time. I hope this is fiction, if not, I'm pleased you could share your pain. Huge hugs - Lovi xoxo
Comment Written 27-Feb-2015
reply by the author on 28-Feb-2015
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Thanks, Lovi
Traditionally the elephant in the room is the glaringly obvious thing that nobody will mention.
My mother died in 2011. This relates to my last visit with her, three months before her death - I travelled from Australia to see her. There were very few outward signs of illness, but we both knew it would be the last time we would see each other. neither of us mentioned her illness and yes, I distinctly remember discussing the price of bananas.
Comment from jim lawler
Cute and funny. This is an easy read and the art-work is hilarious. You did a fine job with it. It's a fun picture to work with and you succeeded. Good luck! Jimmy
reply by the author on 28-Feb-2015
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Cute and funny. This is an easy read and the art-work is hilarious. You did a fine job with it. It's a fun picture to work with and you succeeded. Good luck! Jimmy
Comment Written 27-Feb-2015
reply by the author on 28-Feb-2015
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Thanks, Jim.
Steve
Comment from Dean Kuch
When we're faced with the impending death of someone we love, that elephant not only sits in the room with us, but on our chests at times, it seems. The oppressive weight is so heavy, so cumbersome. And we -- as nothing more than mere mortals who bear witness to the circus -- can do absolutely nothing but sit and take in the show. It is such a helpless, desperate feeling.
A poignant poetic pachyderm proclamation, Steve.
I certainly hope it is hypothetical and not factual.
Best wishes. ~Dean
reply by the author on 28-Feb-2015
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When we're faced with the impending death of someone we love, that elephant not only sits in the room with us, but on our chests at times, it seems. The oppressive weight is so heavy, so cumbersome. And we -- as nothing more than mere mortals who bear witness to the circus -- can do absolutely nothing but sit and take in the show. It is such a helpless, desperate feeling.
A poignant poetic pachyderm proclamation, Steve.
I certainly hope it is hypothetical and not factual.
Best wishes. ~Dean
Comment Written 27-Feb-2015
reply by the author on 28-Feb-2015
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Thanks, Dean.
My mother died in 2011. This relates to my last visit with her, three months before her death - I travelled from Australia to see her. There were very few outward signs of illness, but we both knew it would be the last time we would see each other. neither of us mentioned her illness and yes, I distinctly remember discussing the price of bananas.
Steve
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I'm sorry you lost your mom, Steve. My parents are both in their 70's, respectively, so I've been fortunate enough to have them around for a long time. I still speak to them and visit them regularly. They live only two hours from me, so I'm very lucky in that regard.
Comment from acerisestory
Ah, yes, that darned elephant in the room! Your description of that massive beast is very vivid.
I wasn't sure but knew there was something coming; your last couplet said it all. I am sorry if this is true, Steve.
Your poem is very cleverly written with a sense of humor when there's no reason for humor. I believe it made your well chosen words even more impactful.
Well done! Thanks for yet another well written poem, my friend. Alana
reply by the author on 28-Feb-2015
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Ah, yes, that darned elephant in the room! Your description of that massive beast is very vivid.
I wasn't sure but knew there was something coming; your last couplet said it all. I am sorry if this is true, Steve.
Your poem is very cleverly written with a sense of humor when there's no reason for humor. I believe it made your well chosen words even more impactful.
Well done! Thanks for yet another well written poem, my friend. Alana
Comment Written 27-Feb-2015
reply by the author on 28-Feb-2015
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Thanks, Alana
My mother died in 2011. This relates to my last visit with her, three months before her death - I travelled from Australia to see her. There were very few outward signs of illness, but we both knew it would be the last time we would see each other. neither of us mentioned her illness and yes, I distinctly remember discussing the price of bananas.
Steve
Comment from Jumbo J
Hey Steveh,
going through this at the moment... and it was only yesterday speaking to my mother on the phone that the awkward numbness about what was gong on with her struck hard. Trying to keep a conversation running with incidentals, when all you're wanting to do is pour your heart out.
Brilliant of composition, and tugged at all the heartstrings one owns... this one hit real close to home my friend.
If this is your story, my heart engages yours and offers empathy to you and your mother's plight... but all tears aside, still a very, very clever construction.
With our thoughts we create,
the right words,
James.
******Stars!!!!!!
reply by the author on 28-Feb-2015
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Hey Steveh,
going through this at the moment... and it was only yesterday speaking to my mother on the phone that the awkward numbness about what was gong on with her struck hard. Trying to keep a conversation running with incidentals, when all you're wanting to do is pour your heart out.
Brilliant of composition, and tugged at all the heartstrings one owns... this one hit real close to home my friend.
If this is your story, my heart engages yours and offers empathy to you and your mother's plight... but all tears aside, still a very, very clever construction.
With our thoughts we create,
the right words,
James.
******Stars!!!!!!
Comment Written 27-Feb-2015
reply by the author on 28-Feb-2015
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James, thanks so much for the understanding review.
My mother died in 2011. This relates to my last visit with her, three months before her death - I travelled from Australia to see her. There were very few outward signs of illness, but we both knew it would be the last time we would see each other. neither of us mentioned her illness and yes, I distinctly remember discussing the price of bananas.
Steve
Comment from Debbie Noland
This is a powerful piece, rich in imagery and technique. When my dad was terminally ill four years ago, I became very familiar with this same elephant.
The impending death of a loved one totally permeates one's existence, bringing up hard issues and triggering every possible doubt in his/her own self-confidence and decision-making abilities. Every small thing gone previously unnoticed, is magnified to huge proportions.
The scene you set here, with its faultless attention to character, setting, and dialogue, presents this situation perfectly in all its stark reality and its creation of human pathos. It is one of the best poems I have read since coming onto this site in Nov.
reply by the author on 28-Feb-2015
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This is a powerful piece, rich in imagery and technique. When my dad was terminally ill four years ago, I became very familiar with this same elephant.
The impending death of a loved one totally permeates one's existence, bringing up hard issues and triggering every possible doubt in his/her own self-confidence and decision-making abilities. Every small thing gone previously unnoticed, is magnified to huge proportions.
The scene you set here, with its faultless attention to character, setting, and dialogue, presents this situation perfectly in all its stark reality and its creation of human pathos. It is one of the best poems I have read since coming onto this site in Nov.
Comment Written 27-Feb-2015
reply by the author on 28-Feb-2015
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High praise indeed, debbie. Thanks so much for the thoughtful review and the six stars.
My mother died in 2011. This relates to my last visit with her, three months before her death - I travelled from Australia to see her. There were very few outward signs of illness, but we both knew it would be the last time we would see each other. neither of us mentioned her illness and yes, I distinctly remember discussing the price of bananas.
Steve
