hands at ears hair splayed screaming the baby copying her tears snot streaming is how I remember her always have always will gripped with need for some small pill or syringe or---
I'm holding her mother's hand, and -- lying -- Say that I loved her more as she was dying. Ignoring the cause, ignoring my guilt Boarding up the windows with the view I built. We're crazy paving, joined together. Hands all linked in forgetting whether We were the cause of the start, the end, Or the middle, where she showed that she would tend-- Maybe our actions sped her up, catalysed? We do not ask. Our mouths all lie that we are surprised.
---she is pregnant hands encircling rich and fertile with a hidden promise boy or girl? We know now so we celebrate even though we had made a promise not to was that the start?
The hardest question comes last, At last, "Will the baby remember her past? Yes, I say, from far away, We'll say a prayer on Mother's day. There will be a picture (blown-up huge), I'll ask who's that? She'll look up brightly from her activity mat--
I float away, mouth using persuasive platitudes, Telling them she will know her mother's multitudes, Wondering whether my memories can be falsified. Wondering whether I will remember that I lied.
--I'm holding her mother's hand, and - lying - Say that I love her most now she is dead. I have fooled her, she looks down, sighing, But her father's red-rimmed eyes hold steady on my head.
Completely blown away by this. The story is so real, the use of flow, language, alliteration , rhyme and repetition build it up into this enormously accomplished poem. None of these elements stick out awkwardly,they just sit so well. Easily publish-able I'd say.
I don't know where this came from -- I tend to avoid rhyme (and, nowadays, I tend to write prose poe.. read moreI don't know where this came from -- I tend to avoid rhyme (and, nowadays, I tend to write prose poetry so even avoid line-breaks). But I saw the dissembling and unloving survivor of shared guilt, and I knew that not everyone would fall for his lies of love.
Here he is, skewered, by the red-rimmed gaze of a dead woman's father.
Of course, it is the daughter that I worry about. She will not know her mother, but will she know her father? I don't know where he is. I wrote him in his own head and he doesn't know how to come out.
Completely blown away by this. The story is so real, the use of flow, language, alliteration , rhyme and repetition build it up into this enormously accomplished poem. None of these elements stick out awkwardly,they just sit so well. Easily publish-able I'd say.
I don't know where this came from -- I tend to avoid rhyme (and, nowadays, I tend to write prose poe.. read moreI don't know where this came from -- I tend to avoid rhyme (and, nowadays, I tend to write prose poetry so even avoid line-breaks). But I saw the dissembling and unloving survivor of shared guilt, and I knew that not everyone would fall for his lies of love.
Here he is, skewered, by the red-rimmed gaze of a dead woman's father.
Of course, it is the daughter that I worry about. She will not know her mother, but will she know her father? I don't know where he is. I wrote him in his own head and he doesn't know how to come out.
I think the rhythm is supposed to mirror the speaker's wish: he wants this horrible ticking-clock pa.. read moreI think the rhythm is supposed to mirror the speaker's wish: he wants this horrible ticking-clock parlour hours to go go go.
I loved this piece. It had that burning intensity that I enjoyed. I am speechless. I loved the power and I loved the flow. It was a great piece. Thank you for sharing.
I think this is the most intense thing I wrote. I really felt the scene when I wrote this. I almost .. read moreI think this is the most intense thing I wrote. I really felt the scene when I wrote this. I almost was there with the father, asking myself whether he believed me, and feeling bad that the mother clearly did.
12 Years Ago
"I think this is the most intense thing I've written so far," I mean.
12 Years Ago
That's always a good thing in poetry. :3
I loved it!
I don't know if I could perform this piece unless I had the requisite amount of emotional turmoil go.. read moreI don't know if I could perform this piece unless I had the requisite amount of emotional turmoil going on in me.
Understandable - this coming from an actress, however.
MAKE IT HAPPEN.
I was real.. read moreUnderstandable - this coming from an actress, however.
MAKE IT HAPPEN.
I was really only saying that this piece is written like a performance piece.
How the energy of the piece is forward-pushing and constant.
Keeps you on the edge of your seat, always listening.
You can't lose interest because you the current thought needs to be completed ... but, the completion of nearly every thought presented flows so strongly into the next, that you have to read the entire thing.
I'd be happier if I was able to use different kinds of dash (http://csswizardry.com/2010/01/the-thre.. read moreI'd be happier if I was able to use different kinds of dash (http://csswizardry.com/2010/01/the-three-types-of-dash/). The "--" marks, denoting the cut-off of a sentence, should be em-dashes. They are the second most beautiful expression of language-through-punctuation after, of course, the sublime interrobang.
When I use them, they are turned to sad little quotation marks. Here is an honestly meant sad face :(
Signed up to the Pledge to Civil Conduct in Discourse on Writer's Cafe: please challenge me if you think I am breaking either the letter or the spirit of the rules.
I try to review well myself (see.. more..