LimboThe thread that defends

Against an immutable collapse

Is the same one embracing

My wind pipe


I cannot afford my weakness

Not even in disclosure

To believe my madness

Is to become that which I fear


Idleness is prognostic of death

Indeed are they not synonymous?

There is no remedy forthcoming

No hand or heart to cushion

Only a Tiffany blue sky

Painted clandestinely

Over an omnivorous maw


We are alone

In a universe that consumes

Alone in limbo

Hell is envious

And heaven chained


There is no greater vulgarity

Than a dying man

Who can neither fight nor fall


37 thoughts on “Limbo

  1. Wow very powerful Yves and an interesting look into your unwanted reality, I love that final stanza…there is no greater vulgarity….very apt I think…..excellent poem.

  2. This picture reminds me of the Hanged Man tarot card.
    Death is indeed the ultimate idleness, at least for the body. But what of the soul? We can only speculate! I have seen ghosts (one human, one animal) and thus sincerely believe that something continues after the body dies.
    I could never do headstands, they hurt my neck too much. I used to be able to do handstands, but then I got breasts and hips and my center of balance changed. I honestly hated my developing body!

    1. I think we have souls too I believe in reincarnation myself and I’ve also seen ghosts =) I can do a headstand with hands not without like her I’d break my neck. I am too scared of heights to do a handstand that might not make sense but my head off the floor like that freaks me out royally. Boobs are troublesome lol

  3. Fantastic choice of words , and the delivery is a mixture of two universes: one within us and one around us. My favourite part :”I cannot afford my weakness

    Not even in disclosure

    To believe my madness

    Is to become that which I fear”, as well as the part with the limbo and hell and heaven in it πŸ™‚

  4. those last 4 lines could stand alone…and we would be thinking about it the rest of the day…the feeling of being caught in between comes through clearly in the last half of this….

    will email you later today…at the hospital with my FIL since yesterday and have yet to really sleep…

  5. Ouch! Ouch! And would not an environment or a tree, anything but a cultivated garden have the same story to tell in reverse? Alone with a humanity that consumes … ? ANd yet the intensity of this poem frightens me, proving to me that I am first a home sapien not wanting to see one of my own species helpless and in despair. Bless you.

  6. Yves, this is such a wonderful piece and reads so easily which seems odd since we are talking of something so raw and real. the two last stanzas could actually be 2 separate pieces…one of limbo and irony of depresson; the last describes dementia and perhaps that is my reality with family right now that I see that. You have such talent with words!! Blessings, Oliana

  7. I read this when you posted it but when Oliana reblogged it I re-read it and it reminded me of my dad. He said he felt like he was in limbo waiting to die. He had Alzheimer’s and it was maddening for him to be doing something and forget. But there was a sweatness in him that he was back in his mind when he was younger and commanded a large work force. He carried his brief case again like he did when he was working, he walked the plant in him mind, but I went with him everyday, in his mind thoughts. I wonder if this is how he felt as you have written here. I fear this sometimes when I forget or an absent-minded. I hope you don’t mind my comparing your poem to my dad’s illness but this is what it seemed like to me. Blessings to you!

    1. Of course I don’t mind that it was meaningful to you means a lot to me. I imagine having Alzheimer’s to be something like a state of Limbo. I myself have severe memory problems because of Epilepsy (that probably reflected in the poem) and I can say that I often do feel this way. Thank you so much for your kind words and thank you for sharing your story with me.

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