Trees & Inner Demons

I wrote this in a test book, which I did not have the liberty of taking with me when I left. I've recopied it from memory to the best of my ability, but the original was better. Please review!

I journeyed atop a hillock one day in a dress of billowing blue.

The land was barren and black, and

                Ashes flew from my mouth.

The dried grass parted suddenly,

                And

                                I saw

           The tree.

 

I pressed my face to her knotted trunk

                And cried for my lost love.

                She wiped my tears with her willow boughs

                And bade me hear her tale.

 

A husband leaving for the war,

                His young wife left at home.

Her late-night vigils and constant worry

                Sapped away her youth.

Her face grew lined, her hands grew gnarled, her hair grew streaked with grey.

And when her love returned to her on that day intended for joy,

He took one look at her withered face and winced with much distaste.

               

He left again for "just a few days" and returned with another girl

Whom he took to his bed as a second wife - the first was now his drudge.

And she, upon hearing the news,

                Wiped the love from her eyes.

She tore out her broken, mangled heart

                And with matches, set it alight.

 

Into his bedroom at night she crept,

                While all were sound asleep,

And plunged a flashing silver knife

                Into her master’s chest.

The other girl awoke with a scream and 

                          Stared at the blood on the bed.

The first wife snuffed that life out as well - 

                She’d never be a drudge!!

               

The woman sat, deep in thought, in the silent house.

Her eyes were bright and her mind raced,

                Thinking, “How will I punish myself?”

So she put on a dress of mourning blue

                And journeyed to the top of the hill.

She dug her toes into the soil,

                Extended her arms,

And grew.

 

I listened as she told me her story,

                A sad and winding tale.

“What a coincidence,” I said as she stared,

                “That’s why I’m here as well.”

 

 

Author's Note

A few rhythm problems here and there, but overall I suppose it's alright. I haven't written story-poems in a while, but please read and review!!

Reviews

[ice]

The story/poem is jagged, broken in rhythm...but does that matter?
The beauty of this is, is that it is from your imagination...and like all things imagined, or surreal
there is broken rhythm, and distortions..I think you did fine in presenting what you felt..the story line is good, perhaps extending this into short story form would make it even better.

[Btwixer]

interesting read, amazing imagery

[Owlgirl]

Wow! I love the story, the imagery, the thoughts. Great job on the dialect and this was amazing, you may want to work on the flow/rythm a little more, but it's okay. Amazing, amazing, amazing!

[Ama May Cooper]

What a interesting idea..
I found myself a little lost for plot in bits as it seemed to progress with no aim occasionally but in the end the whole importance of everything came together so its not to much of a deal.

I think the lack of rhythm works for this piece, i dont think its a negative thing, it adds to the raw emotion you have going.. the scorn and anger the laces the word, anger and pain are not smooth flowing emotions .. they are jagged and spikey and they pierce your skin , there light red hot pokers or poision tipped fangs... the lack of rythm adds even more emphasis to the pain that occurs.

I loved this piece of work, in the beauty of your sorrow stricken words, how could i not. This is a fantastic story/poem .. and you deserve the recognition for it :)

[Jazmen]

I like the story, very creative and worth reading. glad you wrote it!

[just is]

sorrowful piece, like it

[....]

this is a tugger, wow....is all i have to say.

[Sky]

A sad and sorrowful tale indeed! Yet, the empowerment lies within the act of a firm and decisive, hell no! There is something to be said for one who will not be second, who refuses to share her love with another. Great piece.

Such a deep personal read, this tugged.

[BLBrown]

That's a heavy topic with an unexpected turn. Yes, the structure seems a bit loose, but you forget about it when you read the words.

You might try the technique I use when writing a poem. I start with the words, I just throw them all down on the page, leaving nothing out and bursting forth as much emotion as possible. Then I make multiple passes through to apply rhyme, syllables, meter, structure, etc. if I want to...always without losing the original raw content. Then I read it out loud for poetry is meant to be read aloud, not in silence. Just some thoughts...everyone has their favorite techniques...this just works for me.

It was perhaps your intent to leave little structure here because of the subject matter...I do that sometimes as well as long as the story itself unfolds in an understandable way.

Nice job, sad story.

[EternityWolf101]

This was an interesting poem to read. I enjoyed it with great taste. :)