virtuoso

mujer fuerte--moi

 

it happens

flashbacks

short term memory goes

long term stays

 

tucked away in dark corners

those sounds

sights

smells

are in my dead eye

 

a squeal

lengthened breath

blood

wailing cries

perfume

 

my mind becomes loud

my mouth gets quiet

i can’t speak

to the ears that can’t hear

 

i retreat to my cave

pen some lines

spill some paint

photograph my eyes

study the lies

 

grease goes in my stomach

water half up the glass

i remember the days

my mother held my hand

in mass

 

silent is the suffering

noisy are the pages

flesh colored camouflage disguises

me

i

blend with equal wages

 

don’t expect them to understand

invisible monstrous loads i carry

on the upward slope

without dope

near maddening, near fictional

 

but true

 

if i started talking

blabber would erupt

a penis would ejaculate

someone would feel better

not me

i

would just have more reason to regress

 

i suppress my scars

this gallant boy

within a girl

is seeking freedom to achieve

the American Dream

 

fearful

the omen will predict otherwise

 

the moon will rise

 

again

 

i will have learned

lived

lamented over

life’s trickery

 

i’m the black cat

 

 

this alley is mine

Reviews

[Michael Lasalle]

Colette, as you are a connoisseur of
empowermental rolling thoughts, fulminating
passion seems alleviatingly expressed,
by way of memory, the inner child,
essencing the heart of a Brilliant Artist,
in this piece, many different and diverse,
yet soulfully rendered images that connect,
create an over all vision of mystery, loved it,
peace, mike

[Everett DeValle]

I had to re-visit your poem, Coco...and it ages well with time like red wine...the ambrosia, smelling the aroma to your name with a oak wood scent finished with a chocolate aftertaste...Okay, that was my upper lip...shoot, I had a Arizona 99 cent watermelon drink...but still I thought of You. :)

[Claudia Moss]

I am bowing to you this morning, Colette! The entire piece is a tour de force, and I especially love..."I'm the black cat....this alley is mine." BRAVO, Querida!!!!

[TL Boehm]

wow your talent is formidable....I have felt this frustration that seeps through your poem - and the clamor of things inside my head. But have never been so eloquent in penning them. Wonderfully done and thank you for visiting. (I found the kitty on webshots...)

[Everett DeValle]

This flowed so well. Love the line breaks. Awesome write my friend. ~Ev

[Crystal Elisa]

i retreat to my cave
pen some lines
spill some paint
photograph my eyes
study the lies

The best stanza! I liked it a whole lot. I think alot of us will be able to relate to this. especially that stanza of recoiling back into oneself and immersing in your art as an catharsis or escape or distraction depending on how you look at it.

CE

[Armon Badill]

very cool poem!
I'm right in the flow of it :)
excellent :)

[Jenny Davis]

Really great prose here, I enjoyed it very much, very unique!

[Julian]

Oh i am diggin this one. Dark? Yes..but also vivid and alive!