Bouquet Becomes Tourniquet

Freeverse

My memory endures a tourniquet
as it tries to forget, while holding blood.
It used to sport a bouquet
as it tried so hard to boast.

Bouquet becomes tourniquet.
A flow is held.
A part of me is throttled, my throat is squeezed.
It wants to loosen - but strangles.

Some things will not release.
Eyes will gawp, try to pop.
Memory can cause so much pain.
That tourniquet that holds so much.

(4 May 2003)

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

This poem reminds me of the image of Luca Brazzi in the Godfather being strangled to death with the garrote ...and his eyes bulging...and I was thinking...how did he survive so long as a hit man when it seemed he was dumb to fall into that trap. But we are not dumb to fall into the trap of memories which choke us...it just happens....it just happens...like you say "Some things will not release"--
Love this piece, Andrew...

[Andrew John]

Thanks so much Jacob. I really was wondering whether it was any good, so I'm glad you like it. (I'm not here in the IT department at the local lib as often as I was, though do like to try to look in on your material).

[Bhuyanshi Talukdar]

I read your poem about memory and pain, and I was struck by the raw emotion and intensity that you expressed. Your words were so powerful and vivid, and I could feel the struggle and turmoil that you have experienced in trying to forget certain things.
The way that you described memory as enduring a tourniquet was so haunting and evocative, and it added a sense of desperation and despair to the poem. The contrast between the bouquet and the tourniquet was also striking, and it added a sense of loss and regret to the poem.
I thought that your poem was a moving and deeply personal reflection on the way that memory can both sustain and suffocate us.

[J.P.]

Gawp! What a sickening choice of word.
I love it. Reminds me of a barbaric yawp!

[Andrew John]

Thank you, JP. And for the "Gawp!" Yawp!!!