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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=460297" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The un-ked</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Words are like unicorns –<br>come from nowhere<br>without any one’s permission or request<br>because there’s a need for them.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Whose painful, sudden, desolate need<br>called this word to be? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Market gardeners pushed further out of towns, <br>their customers now too far a wagon-ride away; <br>sheepherds too, pushed further out of valleys<br>to the barren windswept hills; <br>refugees from starving lands across the sea; <br>the many orphans motherless from too many birthings, <br>childbirth fever, fatherless from cotton-lung; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">all these knew what unked meant; <br>but they had lived with it; <br>it strikes with sudden, hope-drained emptiness <br>the comfortable, too, when they least expect it; <br>it can visit monks and other religious and devout, <br>praying in their solitary cell; <br>even parish priests about their rounds; or<br>princesses, put into cold storage<br>until that right dynastic husband is found; <br>princes, knowing that they one day must rule<br>after their hated father’s hated rule…</div><div style="margin:10px 0">the Psalmist knew it strike his heart; <br>John of the Cross called it<br>the dark night of the soul; Rilke said, <br>leaning over the chasm of myself..</div><div style="margin:10px 0">say the word, sound it, roll it round your mouth, <br>savour its sour aftertaste; live it for a moment.<br>What does it tell you? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">A little like ‘unfed’ – and that they often were; <br>‘unshod’ – and that often, orphans were; <br>‘ked’ – a short word with the certainty<br>that it’s known exactly what it should be; <br>so when it's missing, we know just what's lost..</div><div style="margin:10px 0">or maybe, just a curt, abrupt abbreviation<br>for ‘uncared for’… its suddenness<br>beyond all family and friends then, in that moment, <br>a desolation of the soul; no ease from god or man; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">you’ll know it; or you won’t: <br>unked.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>[a Lancashire dialect word, which Mrs Gaskell found invaluable]</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Michael+Shepherd">Michael Shepherd</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=460297" data-title="The un-ked de Michael Shepherd" data-description="Words are like unicorns –
come from nowhere
without any one’s permission or request
because there’s a need for them.

Whose painful, sudden, desolate need
called this word to be? 

Market gardeners pushed further out of towns, 
their custome..."></div>
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