Mourning — Umberto Boccioni

6 thoughts on “Mourning — Umberto Boccioni”

  1. Reblogged this on 1jdadam and commented:
    Terrorist Attack/The Morning After No One Could Save My Children
    Newtown CT, December 14, 2012

    I’m going to go ahead and “celebrate”.

    I’m going to turn the lights back on the Christmas tree.

    I’ll turn the lights on the Christmas tree….
    my tears water the cut trunk.
    I can’t ignore the connection…
    really, watering a dead tree?

    It is, I suspect, what my life will always be….
    watering the graves of my dead children.

    My children! Just yesterday, Alive!
    Living, walking miracles waiting to happen
    to our future!
    Smiles so precious as to be ever remembered
    with thought of my child.
    Tears shed for others’ pain, hands fashioning
    “gifts” of comfort ….
    My children…

    They exist because of Love!
    No, I must try to remember, the past tense.
    How? How can I recall them as past?
    I look everywhere, I pick up the phone
    and with a pain that should but does not kill
    I remember they are past tense now.

    Who will remember my children?
    their short little lives…
    Was their sacrifice worthy?
    Will their LIVING yet bring forth the miracles
    ripped from our world by their murders?

    Can there be a place in the hearts of men to allow my dead children
    to change the World after all?

    Such are my thoughts …
    Not today,
    I just can’t light this dead tree today…

    © by jdadam, December 15th, 2012
    This material can be freely distributed as long as this copyright notice remains in place.


  2. Hi, I wanted to share with you that when I opened and saw this image, I had only finished the poem no more than an hour before. I was stunned as I had thought of Neisvestny’s “Scream”. After I re-blogged, and thank you for making that available, I realized that although the chances of any one of the family in Newtown would see this is not likely, the image may have an undesired emotional effect nevertheless. Words are easier, you can stop reading them, but an image of this strength and power is hard to forget. I still love it blogged, but that is why I took it down and just put my words up as My Soul Offering. Thank you for enhancing my creative experience.


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