Today’s Poetry Friday is a tad dark – yet as all things go, inevitable. I thought that it would be a perfect poem to match some of the photos I took while I was in New Orleans when I did a cemetery tour with good friends. Heidi Mordhorst from My Juicy Little Universe is hosting this week’s Poetry Friday – head on over there to check out lighter-aired posts. 🙂
Cemetery Tour in New Orleans
We are in Voodoo land, after all, might as well visit the graveyards. It was not as sobering an experience as I expected – it was pretty light. Here are some of the photos I took:
Well-tended grave – with fresh flowers on a Halloween-themed vase.
In contrast to this one, peeling paint, quite dark.
Known as apartment-types. Also quite run-down.
Very gothic-inspired.
Brief Cemetery Tour in Singapore
Several days back, we had the lovely privilege of hosting one of our premiere Filipina singer-songwriter, Madam Cynthia Alexander. She was intrigued with the variety of cemeteries we have here in Singapore – she saw most of them as we were on our way to Bollywood Veggies, a lovely restaurant (very organic-based) in the Western part of Singapore. Here are some of the photos I have taken from that very brief sojourn with the dead. These ones are kind of creepy and sad, truth be told.
Christian Cemetery Path
We walked through a graveyard of babies – most of them died at birth. Truly very sad.
This one freaked out my daughter primarily because it’s broken. It is indeed a tad scary.
This one even has the child’s playthings. Heartbreaking.
I also find that these are things we should purge ourselves of. The fear, the mangled demons within, and the scars that are still healing. This is a fitting post to let go of all these energies that should be thrown to the universe – which is grand enough to hold and safeguard all things beautiful and sordid.
Before I share Joel M. Toledo’s poem this Friday, allow me to share the lyrics from Cynthia Alexander’s song “Emptyhanded.” Trust me when I say that it is the perfect song for this theme. Here are the lyrics to her song – which are poetry in and of itself.
Emptyhanded
Why, Why do you worry?
We are not born nor do we die,
What is happening, happens for the best.
What will happen, happens for the best.
We have come emptyhanded,
We will go emptyhanded.
What have you lost that you are weeping?
What youfound that you have lost?
What have you built that has been broken?
You have not anything…
What you have, you got from here
what was given you, was given here
what you took, you took from here
what you gave, you gave unto here
We have come emptyhanded
We will go emptyhanded,
Emptyhanded.
Why, why toil for sorrow?
And what have we to fear?
What is happening, happens for the best.
What will happen, happens for the best.
We have come emptyhanded,
We will go emptyhanded.
What you have, you got from here
What was given you, was given here
What you took, you took from here
what you gave, you gave unto here.
We have come emptyhanded
We will go emptyhanded
We have come emptyhanded
We will go emptyhanded
And so I share now Professor Joel M. Toledo’s poem:
Bereavement Leave by Joel M. Toledo
Pass out the biscuits. Pass around an exhausted hand. Match the grip of strangers, firm in their insistence on lapsed kinship. I pass by the old mirror and do not find grief. Maybe because that can wait. No, not that— because no one stares at mirrors hoping for the sudden sorrows. Even actors cannot do that, I think. One instead finds it in the faces of a new cousin, aging relatives helping out in the kitchen, neighbors whose name you will never recall when this leave’s over. Death has a funny way of extending the family. Or delaying the absence. Looking now at my mother, the curl of her lips tracing a smile beneath the glass, I realize the world can wait. She holds her peace well, and nine days after it’s still not the time to speak, but for simply passing the time, passing by the mirror again and again, holding back the necessary arrangements. Because now a newfound uncle, the one with a booming laugh and the thickest barrio accent, is asking for coffee.
Gathering Books 
Lovely post. I loved seeing both of the cemeteries.
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Hi! I thought you’d love seeing them too. I checked out your park photos and the cemetery one as well. 🙂
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The lyrics are very wise and I enjoyed Toledo’s poem very much also. I haven’t suffered much bereavement in my life, but I find myself preparing, these days, for loss. If that’s possible.
Thanks for stopping by mjlu today, Myra!
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Hi Heidi. Truly difficult to prepare for the inevitable. 🙂 Thank you for hosting this week’s Poetry Friday.
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The words caught the event in my memories so very well. When happening, one seems to take solace in others, even if it’s just bringing them coffee. I liked your photos and the journey through. I have taken students to a nearby cemetery to write, a fascinating exercise for them, to imagine the lives of the stories they find on the stones. Thanks.
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Hi Linda, thanks for visiting. I imagine that it’s a powerful powerful exercise for the students – being face to face with what others deem to be taboo. I’d love to read their stories one day. 🙂
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I really enjoyed this. I guess I’m morbid but I actually like cemeteries, and I also like to see how different cultures/people deal with death. I love this poem, and it carries that sense of grief-yet-closeness that comes to a family when someone dies. Thanks!
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Hello! Thanks for dropping by. It’s my pleasure to feature these photos. Walking through the New Orleans cemeteries isn’t as creepy as walking through the Singapore ones, for some reason. 🙂 I suppose the images convey that as well.
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Thank you, Myra, for this thoughtful post.
Yes, a visit to a cemetery can be a little sad and dark but it is a useful reminder of an undeniable part of life. The singer Cynthia Alexander has it right: “We have come emptyhanded, we will go emptyhanded.”
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That is one of my favorite Cynthia Alexander songs – ’emptyhanded’ beautiful. Welcome back, Maria!
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I love the juxtaposition of the photographs, the song and the poem – the underlying themes are all so beautifully connected and enriched by such different mediums. Thank you for sharing this experience.
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Hi Tara, truly my pleasure – it’s a purging of sorts. 🙂
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Really lovely poem, song and photos, Myra. Thanks for taking us on this journey. into cemeteries we may never see and inward to the place called Grief which is all to near. This line speaks to me – “no one stares at mirrors hoping for the sudden sorrows.”
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Grief, loss, and love intertwined with ‘sudden sorrows’ – I’m glad you enjoyed it Joyce Ray. Thanks for dropping by.
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Oh, those baby toys tug at my heart. I agree with the others — photos, song and poem all complement one another and your reflections. Thank you for such a thoughtful post.
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Hi Janet, I know. I find myself saying a silent prayer as my heart broke quietly seeing all these images.
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How interesting to come to this post from “Reluctance” by Robert Frost at The Write Sisters! I love when the poems of Poetry Friday “talk” to each other!!
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Hi Mary Lee! Welcome back. I know!! I visited Reluctance too. 🙂
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