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Peculiar Fire
by Ken HarnischThe river bears its young dead ambivalently
And turns them up in spring, bloated gray
From long dead sleep in the black muck at
The river bottom. Gasses raise the bodies
Like Lazarus and the men with the slim poles
Fish the corpses from waters that have long
Forgotten what its like to be both blue and clean.
I knew her, she who once climbed upon
A clock tower on the Quad and enthralled us all
With her rant, while the shaken professors
Cancelled all our finals and some of us actually came
Alive that day, blessed with this fortuitous
Second chance, and we were born again as
Students who had only been mad revelers before
Her face lying sun-up resembles that of a puffer fish,
Not as serene or admittedly as pained as it was
In life. Her amber eyes no longer shine with that
Peculiar fire that made men lust for her quite openly
In their dorms and made some women wonder
Why God had decided they had to love men instead
She is gone and that light gone with her. It is a shame.
You can walk out on the parapets of the bridge, etched
In granite long weathered into nothingness and no one can
See you stashed among the gargoyles while you stare down
At the roiling waters, perhaps seeing the last of winters floes
Drifting by before you decide it is time, and you can fly
When in fact a direct drop is preferred; no more meandering
In the mud of misery, yet lying there entombed, until the spring.
For the living left to pick up the pieces there are only questions and despair
And for some the soul-wrenching that would dry out any sponge,
But theres the rub: Often, the dead leave scars upon the living
That the living do not deserve, and those who choose to die themselves
Rather than letting God or fate decide the way burn surviving flesh
More savagely than most. Some dare call this courage, but staring
At the wasted beauty pulled up from the river, Im inclined to disagree. 04/30/2003 Author's Note: This is entirely an act of imagination, although with most such contrivances it had its roots in the people I know and heard of who have and had endeavored to take their own lives. If I give any offense to anyone it is totally unintended; I, too, have lost someone close to this fate.
Posted on 05/02/2003
Copyright © 2024 Ken Harnisch
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Melissa Arel on 05/02/03 at 01:53 PM Poems that are this length normally make me skip through them, but this one didn't it. It kept my attention. I think we all have been directly or indirectly affected by suicide, I know I have. And you're right: "Often, the dead leave scars upon the living/That the living do not deserve" - I've seen the fruit of that. A thought-provoking piece, Ken.. gently and truthfully rendered.
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| Posted by Agnes Eva on 05/02/03 at 09:53 PM wow. some lines have a jewelled clearity here, and the whole poem makes sense and flow in the (mostly) fictional world you've created. it would speak honestly to those who've wondered at this injust side of suicide.. you delve into the suicidal mind with a keen poetic precision, as well as to the reality outside of that person |
| Posted by Kate Demeree on 05/02/03 at 10:27 PM I know the pain of loss, from a suicide... I read this with very mixed feelings. I think you capture all sides of the issue Very Well as well as how an onlooker might see it. "Often, the dead leave scars upon the living
That the living do not deserve,"
How Very True!
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| Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 05/06/03 at 01:11 PM Excellent work Ken. Doesn't sound contrived at all, as if someone you knew personally died tragically by falling through ice and drowning, to later rise again to the surface due to the Spring melt. |
| Posted by Graeme Fielden on 05/06/03 at 03:30 PM An excellent piece of writing Ken - congratulations - It reminds me in parts of Shakespeare's descriptive tract concerning the death of Ophelia...All the best :) |
| Posted by Michele Schottelkorb on 02/20/04 at 08:22 PM for a poem of fiction, you paint a vividly sad portrait here... rich in language, both haunting and disturbing, the reader falls into the story effortlessly... incredible piece here, just brilliant... blessings... |
| Posted by Maureen Glaude on 02/25/04 at 04:49 PM I thought I'd already commented on this outstanding piece. The longevity of it on our hits list as #1 speaks for itself, but it is so vivid and real and haunting. excellent. |
| Posted by Charles E Minshall on 05/04/04 at 06:09 AM I generally try to avoid a poem of this nature
like an ostrich sticking it's head in the sand
I guess, but your poem was a compelling read.
Well done Ken....Charlie |
| Posted by David Hill on 01/19/05 at 12:35 AM Suicide will always be romanticized to some degree, I suppose. Powerful piece throughout and the finish reminds us to consider the full impact of such actions. I like the images associated with the river.
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| Posted by Joan Serratelli on 02/27/09 at 02:58 PM There is not much I can add. Suicide is definely NOT painless. The people left behind ar forced to blame themselves and wonder if they could have prevnted it. Sad~ very, very sad |
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