検索キーワード： 死・悲嘆・喪失

Die Kraniche des Ibykus ist eine Ballade von Friedrich Schiller aus dem Jahr 1797, die im 6. Jh. v. Chr. spielt. Die Ballade wurde erstmals in Schillers Musenalmanach für das Jahr 1798 herausgegeben. Die Ballade beruht, wie bei Schiller oft, auf einem tatsächlichen historischen Geschehen: der Ermordung des Dichters Ibykos.

Der Jüngling am Bache: An der Quelle saß der Knabe, Blumen wand er sich zum Kranz, Und er sah sie fortgerissen, Treiben in der Wellen Tanz. Und so fliehen meine Tage, Wie die Quelle, rastlos hin! Und so bleichet meine Jugend, Wie die Kränze schnell verblühn!

Echoes of Military Souls is a power-packed package of art that promises to keep you on the edge of your seat. It is a roller coaster stream of emotion. The poems forcefully remind us that soldiers lay down their lives for fellow humans. But do we really value this singular sacrifice? The theatrical ambience of the poems imprints indelible vistas of hope for the indefatigable human spirit!

I lost my wife in 2020 to a brain tumor just a few weeks after we had celebrated our 48th wedding anniversary. “Celebrated” is a word that springs back when pressed down. More subdued than earlier ones, to be sure, that last anniversary was nonetheless a felt celebration of a lifetime together.

A fallen knight descends into the Underworld, defiantly challenging Death itself. He confronts nightmares and echoes of his life’s decisions and their consequences, constantly searching for his way back.

Within Trigger Warning lies a poetic memoir of writings and art from my journey living through a life afflicted by mental illness. Step into my mind to hear nearly 17 years of experiences and triggers. Enter at your own risk.

Emory Hall’s debut poetry collection follows the anatomy of a river, swelling with loss and grief, and dances with the sacred waters of transformation and motherhood. Full of magic and deep emotion, Made of Rivers will wash anew those who come to it, uncovering hidden corners of the self. It draws upon Emory’s wellspring of experiences, hardships, triumphs and revelations.

In these exquisitely rendered poems, people fall in and out of love, in and out of religious belief and in and out of accepting the distance between their imagined lives and the lives they live. They look back as much as forward and pick mercilessly at the open wounds of failed relationships. They inhabit geographies that are both their emancipators and captors. And they find joy, or succumb to sorrow, amid life’s inescapable ephemerality and fragility.

The energies animating Saints of Little Faith, Megan Pinto’s electrifying debut in poetry, are a forceful quiet, a loud stillness, the caesura between a lightning strike and the sound of thunder. Everywhere, the speaker sees the numinous power of language, the incipience of things to come, even a kind of catastrophic grace in desolation and destruction—as if within the terrain of her own obsession, she recognizes the familiar, ever-changing seasons.

This collection of words from Havva Ramadan has its origins during lockdown and her work continues to resonate to this day, finding an even wider audience through her rapidly growing online presence. Now, in her first book, A Voice: Turning Pain into Power, her words take a different form, collected to give us a very personal journey that we can all relate to, reflecting the pain of grief, the struggle of mental health and the journey we need to take to help us collect our pieces and find a way to rebuild ourselves once again.

Quietly reflective, the beautifully written poems in this slim volume offer a welcome respite from the noisy insistence of modern life. The language, now simple and direct, now rich in associations, double-meanings, and imagery, has its own natural rhythm and appeal regardless of subject and rhyme.

This is a book of poetry to encourage people that have been through heartbreak, pain, grief and the ending of a relationship. It's honest, real talk about the feelings we have after experiencing this sort of death after losing someone we have deeply loved.

Yang Sooyi once loved her husband with all her heart. But his demanding career and stardom have left her heart crushed. She hardly sees him anymore. Jealousy creeps in, twisting her thoughts down dark paths. Yang Sooyi slowly loses her grip on sanity as loneliness grips her. Lost in sorrow, she finds herself alone at the worst possible time.

With searing intelligence and great sensitivity, the poems of Kelly Caldwell—many addressed to Cass Donish, her partner in the years before her suicide at thirty-one, swim through a complex matrix of transformations: mental illness, divorce, gender transition, and self-discovery. But they wrestle, too, with the poet’s painful relationships with her family of Christian missionaries, who refused to affirm her identity.

Cass Donish courageously summons the poems to witness their own state of “obliteration,” widowed by suicide and isolated as a global pandemic is unfolding. Elegizing their partner, the poet Kelly Caldwell, they insist that the intimate, ongoing conversation with a beloved mysteriously continues after loss. With searing vulnerability and profound perceptiveness, Donish finds a fierce new aesthetic for the disorientation of grief.

From the author's leather-bound book kept locked at the base of his bed, we journey through New York City, chilled farmlands and isolated cabins in the woods. Calloway's solid masculine approach is refreshingly original. We have all felt the warmth of the world around us and we have all felt the cold. This author holds our hand as he leads us down rich passageways of the psyche.

In a strange twist of kismet, Remica Bingham-Risher's paternal great-great-great grandmother, Minnie Lee Fowlkes, is interviewed for the Works Progress Administration Slave Narratives in Petersburg, Virginia in 1937, and her maternal grandmother, Mary Knight, is sent to Petersburg in 1941, diagnosed with "water on the brain"—postpartum depression being an ongoing mystery—nine days after birthing her first child.

In Conversation is a personal milestone in Janice Whyne's journey of rediscovering her creative self. She sees poetry as a means of self-expression. A conduit and a safe space for our emotions, feelings and lived experiences. The poems in In Conversation began their lives with a word(s) exchanged in conversation or that captured her attention in something she was listening to or viewing. She regards them as articulations of the said and unsaid, with the poetic voice in them not always hers but rather an expression or interpretation of the voice(s) of others.

These verses twist trauma and grief into self-loving peace, a therapy cushion of words and doodle artwork. Come feel the dark so we can see the light again.

The poems in this collection are a testament to Csaba's resilience, humor, and a deep sense of empathy. The author's reflections on life's joys and challenges are both personal and universal, touching on themes such as love, loss, hope, and the beauty of the natural world. The poems are written in a variety of styles, from free verse to haiku, and are infused with Csaba's unique perspective on the world.