The Rite of Recollection
An Ekphrastic Sonnet
“The work of mourning seeks neither to save from death nor deny it, but to save from a ‘worse than death.’”—Jacques Derrida, The Work of Mourning, 2001.
To be forgotten is much worse than death
For memory contains the only hope
Of ersatz immortality—one breath
Divides the quick from the inert; a rope
We walk, stretched between womb and tomb
Its strength depends upon the minds of those
Who attend to our motion and assume
The mourner’s dark, uncomfortable clothes
For that tomorrow from which we will be
Absent, save as specters preserved in tales
Whispered over sandwiches and coffee
By faces painted with tears, ghostly pale
The dead are palimpsests on tomorrow
Mourning makes them legible, with sorrow
About the Creator
D. J. Reddall
I write because my time is limited and my imagination is not.
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Spellbound (1945)
As part of my ongoing ambition to be a 1940s screenwriter, I have re-watched Hitchcock’s Spellbound. Of course, he is the master of suspense. During the 1940s and 1950s Hitchcock used his years of experience in the film industry to direct some of the most thrilling and frightening films of the era. They are full of heightened emotions, conflict and twisted plot-lines.
By Rachel Robbins4 days ago in Geeks
Comments (6)
I'm glad you found it to be effective--thank you!
Oh wow, learnt two new words from your poem, ersatz and palimpsest! Your first line hit me so hard because it's so true!
I really enjoy your sonnets. Another great one.
This sonnet resonates with the power of solemnity and the human condition. It reminds all that the paths of glory lead but to the grave, but it is the journey there and how one shapes a life that counts.
Wow. Your ability to merge the expressions of artists with poetry is deeply meaningful, and I admire it. I know this poem is meant to be grim and dreary and sad and horrible, but I still find it beautiful.
"Mourning makes them legible." I frequently wonder how an introverted extrovert who likes quiet time will be remembered by more than the few relatives still left after passing. Actually, after passing on, we are in a new adventure and don't care. Great poem, I really liked it!