Helen Laycock
@helenlaycock.bsky.social
2.1K followers 820 following 1K posts
Poet nominated for Pushcart & Best of Net. Winner of Black Bough Poetry Chapbook contest, shortlisted for Broken Spine Arts Chapbook contest. Book of the Month at The East Ridge Review. Children’s fiction & short stories. https://linktr.ee/helen.laycock
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helenlaycock.bsky.social
This poem was inspired by the true story of Tahlequah, an Orca mother, who carried her dead baby for 17 days, for thousands of miles... evidence that animals do experience #grief.

Shared today for #twentyforecopoetry
Published in 'ELEMENTAL'.

#poetry #Orca

#Blueskypoets #poetsofBlueky #SkyPoets
AN OCEAN OF ORCA TEARS by Helen Laycock

Tahlequah corkscrews,
throwing her belly to the light,
showing the sky her feat
through the wobble of water;

she has made flesh and fin
in the time the earth
has rolled around the sun.

Like water from a whip,
she spins out the little life –
Tali –
tail first,
a dark fizz of celebration
exploding like her silent joy.

Parallel shadows,
they are carbon copies,
paper and ink,
swimming with
magnetic hearts,

noses softly drilling
the beginning of miles.

Thirty sleek minutes
of nourishment,
mimic, brushing,
no rush,
eye to eye,
knowing love

before the stopped breath.
The tsunami of grief.
Death.

The calf is limp,
bent over her mother’s beak
like a wilted stalk,
brined,
dying,
tail a broken arrowhead
skimming the waves.

Tahlequah adorns herself
with a Tali headdress,
hour upon hour,
straining to keep it afloat,
as though it is made of flowers
the water will brown.

For a thousand miles,
death squats on her face,
replaces the horizon,
the rise and fall of
seventeen suns,
the spill of the milky moon,
night after night after night.

The carcass rots as she
carries it aloft,
bearing it
like a saved gift.

She dives when it
slides
and sinks,

scoops the corpse
like a haul of silver,

lifts it to the sun,
maybe in prayer,

maybe to warm its blood.

She follows the pod,
eyes pleading
as though a healer will emerge,
and they tip the body
from whale to whale,
feeling the grief,
sharing the load,

until she

sheds the load.

She does not turn as it
slips away,
submerges in her wake.

Waves swill
the blemish of death
from her skin;

it braids the tide of a far land,

but she bears the cliff fall
of its weight.
Feels the density of emptiness,
pressing, pressing,

though she is now
wholly indiscernible
from the rest.

From 'ELEMENTAL'
helenlaycock.bsky.social
Thanks so much, Edward. 🤍
helenlaycock.bsky.social
Thank you, Mike. Yes. 🙏
helenlaycock.bsky.social
Thank you, and great news about tomorrow!
helenlaycock.bsky.social
Thank you for this wonderful feedback, my friend. ❤️

Will catch up with yours soon.
helenlaycock.bsky.social
Thanks so much, Jan. I shall put the trophy on my shelf! 🥰

Will catch up with yours soon. Busy weekend for me…
helenlaycock.bsky.social
Thank you, Paul. Always so generous with your praise. ❤️

Busy weekend for me, but will catch up with yours asap!
helenlaycock.bsky.social
So kind, Carolyn. Thank you.

Not sure I will have time this weekend to read other contributions, but I look forward to enjoying yours next week. ❤️
helenlaycock.bsky.social
Thanks again, John. 🙏
helenlaycock.bsky.social
It’s deliberately ambiguous. The harm from another can be subtle, and unperceived, and the victim consequently self-blames. I actually changed the final line to reflect this.

Thanks so much for reading, John.
helenlaycock.bsky.social
Dark humour against a backdrop of the reality of loss/ending across so many contexts.

The final thought is serious and sobering.
helenlaycock.bsky.social
How fabulous!
They're in for a treat. 🌟
helenlaycock.bsky.social
Thank you, Rosanna. 🤍
helenlaycock.bsky.social
Thank you! It was a lovely surprise. ❤️
helenlaycock.bsky.social
Who wants ‘banal’ when we can have ‘I brought my soul, carried/in a carriage of spine’, ‘the succulence of a poem’s kiss’ and ‘ornaments of starlight’!

As you were, Mr Smith. 🖤
helenlaycock.bsky.social
Had time today to compose something for #poemsabout #ImperfectMe...

A fascinating subject, inspiring so much #poetry, plus introspection, I'm sure.

(Apologies, @alanparrywriter.co.uk Posting a little early - 4 hours before midnight - as tomorrow is busy)

@thebrokenspine.co.uk
FORGERY

Outside, too soft	 like a berry,
easily bruised or pulped underfoot, ultimately 
misshapen and unrecognisable as fruit.

Inside, too much water, rising like a tide,
eyes holding surface tension
inside a quiver-rim of skin.

The wash recedes, leaving hollows 
as it long-trawls dregs
in the comb of emotion, 

and deposits them thick at every shore,

clogging words to soggy syllables.
Waterlogged tissue falls apart.
Becomes throat-mulch.

And when he says you look sad,	and asks why,
you feel sadder, fumbling
for the frayed thread, while

feeling a wet whip flailing you, 
whittling you to the imperfect figure
you have made of yourself.

Helen Laycock
helenlaycock.bsky.social
Fantastic, Paul! 👏👏👏
helenlaycock.bsky.social
A poem on the theme #mystical.

This is ‘RECOVERY’. 💚

#poetry #poetrycommunity #poetsofbluesky #skypoets #forest #grief
helenlaycock.bsky.social
Thank you, Carmella.
Delighted you enjoyed it. ❤️
helenlaycock.bsky.social
Submissions are now open for @afterpoetry.com
@markantonyowen.com, a lovely opportunity to showcase #ekphrastic or ‘after’ #poetry.
Here’s one of mine that was featured earlier this year.
helenlaycock.bsky.social
Fantastic poets!
Congratulations, all. 👏👏👏
helenlaycock.bsky.social
Thanks so much, Rosanna. ❤️