how we learnt to live

how we learnt to live

A Poem by Alicante lullaby

Momma was self sacrificial and bitter

like most  self-sacrificial people are,

the ones you read about in books

A true Gandhist,she lived on some sort of a curb diet plan

left best portions of handiya for papa and Ali

kept to her diet plans and ate only me,

for lunch,for breakfast,for dinner

Papa had always been popular and self-obssessed

but we loved his childish liking of himself,

our huge smiling dictator,we really loved him

atleast i did

(may be because he was as scared of my self sacrificial momma

as i was...may be she ate us both)

Pinkie had never been anything more than those pretty pink soap bottles

(plastic and no brains...easily mouldable,readily available)

and to be honest she never wanted/ pretended to be anything more,

she never had to,after all she was the pretty one

so she got  my share of true loves too

Ali grew up wanting to kill me

(and i dont know why)

Cousin brother was the only thing i claimed back then

and how he loved to teach and touch,

his fingers couldnt help touching

we experimented alot with our bodies and his ouija board

he was the one who brought me my first tin of cranberry juice

and he talked of bees

perhaps he was the one who told me

that we lived  in a bee hive,all of us

with our lack of individuality and  our continuous buzz buzz

Oh my God ,the humdrum,our humdrum was almost alive

Huge and cloud like with always the dull same notes  like a church choir's,

it was then and there 

when my last sessions with cousin brother concluded beneath the bed

(or perhaps it was under the dinning table,i dont remember)

that i learnt to fight myself alone,

cued my coloured aesthetics in neat rows,

loved my qualms,hated them,

all of the boys in my class awakened  a young mama in me

and i wanted each of them to have oedipus complex

when enraged i taught myself to destroy each tiny world in my fist

my tongue  craved everything sweet and red

everything as sweet and red as cranberry juice

and my brown hands stretched out to find words

to elaborate ''the art of survival''

this is precisely how i learnt to live

© 2011 Alicante lullaby


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you have this ability to express your inner thoughts in a way that bypasses our imaginations to touch the higher levels of consciousness , this is soulspeak

Posted 13 Years Ago


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OT
oh and lines to quote - "Momma was self sacrificial and bitter
like most self-sacrificial people are," and "and he talked of bees
perhaps he was the one who told me
that we lived in a bee hive,all of us
with our lack of individuality and our continuous buzz buzz
Oh my God ,the humdrum,our humdrum was almost alive" - and the last couple of lines - bleugh - I am jealous lol - "to elaborate ''the art of survival''
this is precisely how i learnt to live" - I'll stop spamming you now!

Posted 13 Years Ago


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OT
I read this last night - and thought brilliant - but my words were being elusive - so I return today to throw more praise at you lol - you are in my opinion (which in my opinion is highly accurate lol!) the true confessionalist poet of WC - I mean other people have bits and bobs whining about their lives and being dumped - but that's not confessionalism - that's blogging - THIS - is confessional poetry - I've told you before the touch of Plath is ever present - a tint of Sexton and the female writers of the mid-20th century for sure! - with a modern twist - your poetic voice and poetry is a pleasure to read - do not lose it along the way and be beaten into form or some crap - this is raw - heart - bravo!

Posted 13 Years Ago


first two lines are great. simple and great.
this is some fantastic confessional writing. truly tender.
stunning work.

Posted 13 Years Ago


Some poetry is to teach and some poetry is for the pleasure of the words. This poem is both. The story in the poem brought me in and held my attention to the last word. Life teaches us many lessons. Some good and some bad. Survival skills change with age. Thank you for a outstanding poem.
Coyote

Posted 13 Years Ago


that is simply astounding and gripping... it felt so natural... so simple yet brilliant... well, there's a bit of "learning to live" from you too... really loved the bees in the hive concept... great write... keep writing... :)

Posted 13 Years Ago



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Added on July 22, 2011
Last Updated on July 22, 2011

Author

Alicante lullaby
Alicante lullaby

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The Hanging Man By the roots of my hair some god got hold of me. I sizzled in his blue volts like a desert prophet. The nights snapped out of the sight like a lizard's eyelid: The wor.. more..

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A Poem by Alicante lullaby



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