Posted in Poetry

Human Error

All of our blunders
our scarlet miscalculations
drop like debris,
fuselage plummeting
when Quietus
buys the seat
beside us

Mid-air, my love,
we meet
at last

Immortal blue above
boundless patterns
of geo-green
and brown

And we are
cast in robes
of amaranthine
In the eternal in-between


© Jilly’s  All Rights Reserved

The Finale for She & He and for the month of April.  On the 3rd day of National Poetry Month, a narrative began with the poem Quake. As many writers will tell you, it felt like the characters had taken me hostage and bid me write their story, so I spent this past month chained to my laptop in exchange for coffee and the by-line.  If you have not read the story of She & He, feel free to click on the above link to Quake and scroll through the poems.  To those who have been reading throughout the month – many thanks!  ~Jilly



A wild soul writing poetry.

27 thoughts on “Human Error

  1. Beautiful!!! But so many questions! First though, “scarlet miscalculations” – Oh man, so good. “Quietus buys the seat beside us” — wonderful, probably a lot of folks will have to go to the dictionary. “Mid-air, we meet at last” OK, that is the super big question then who He/She are. Re-frames all the poems that came before, unless, unless… yes, no, always there, always part of the(ier) story. The amaranthine gets a *lot* more powerful when I look up the image and the drops of red cascading down in plumes.

    Liked by 1 person

      1. Its been great fun for your readers! Now you have to think chapbook. No reason not to add more poems as well, if the story continues or retreats or eddys backward in you.

        Liked by 1 person

  2. Looked up not only Quietus but also Amaranth(ine). The old(?) adage, until death do us part is absolved/resolved/dissolved (not necessarily in that order) in thin air. I can’t help wondering though if it isn’t a case of Jilly killing off her darlings – the way they’d do in fiction writing? Meant tongue in cheek. In hindsight, they both felt close to death all along though, whether they realised, He specifically, or not. And neither are we sure they actually did die as such. Quietus also means, no debt to be repaid, the karma account stands on nought. Thank heavens.

    The flower aspect, it being made of paper, then loose petals, burnt; paper again, again not necessarily in that order: Amaranthine derived from the flower has many layers of meaning as well. I’m intrigued it’s an edible plant and will in fact make sure to plant some in my garden, in the veggie patch as soon as spring arrives in a few months time. Red is also the colour of life, not only of blood(shed).

    Both their fuses blown, metaphorically speaking, they could do nothing else but part to find some sort of re-unification on another plane. It’s possible while still ‘alive’ I’d like to think.

    There’s lots more but let’s let Them be. And indeed as Qbit said: they may very well not be merely mortal, something that couldn’t have been considered until this last episode.

    Liked by 1 person

      1. At first I was like “What!? The Poet killed them off just like that? Deus ex Machina?” and then little bits of exploded plane parts and blood-red confetti started drifting down like a plume of amaranth. Possibilities and other meanings became available.

        Liked by 1 person

    1. Amazing literary analysis!! Thank you for being so engaged with this whole thing – While I enjoy the writing, I love the outcome for the reader! Beautiful comments and ponderings 🙂


  3. Wow, Jilly! Totally out of the blue. I’m not sure what ground I can cover… Petru and Randall seem to have trampled the crash site quite effectively. First off… the form is excellent. You begin with a summative statement that sets the reader on the edge of their seat… prepares them for the worst. But then it comes, gloriously understated and couched in a couple of deviously clever multi-meaning words. It becomes a game of look up the word. But in the end, you have written the end. The eternal in-between — suspended in the air? Have they become the things of weather and climate, somehow injected into the water cycle? Neither heaven nor hell, but a kind of purgatory? Other readers, of course, will offer better, more reasonable questions.

    Thank you, Jilly, for this series of scenarios. Massively engaging — leaving more questions than answers, and two really well-sketched characters. Bravo, and bravo!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you for the insight, Charley!! I really appreciate your encouragement through the month. By my definition, good poetry should leave more questions than answers, so I am honored by that. 🙂


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