The Overweight Shell

It used to be the barren land - women fell away.

I stand upright under a small cloud,

The arching black earth-square

Tied down as the laces of a human heart

When I fell into the darkness, I exit

The stomach of love, the chattering shelf,

The father of mortar enlarges me,

He fell to a moving swirl.

The gravel of the throat cries out,

Under-earth cacophony, stuck by rigidity.

Not even the dumb-breath tried,

Tiresome moth.

Outside a flatness of shudders

Everybody in the dying ground, the charn, clasped their ears,

Indifferent to the sickly air, open and together,

The dead mouth will not say.

Awake as a human

I bend to the flesh of light.

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

Nice artwork and words. I wanted to read and know more. Always a pleasure to read your work Rosalind.
Coyote

[Rosalind Gale]

Thanks so much, poet -
Rosa
-x-

[Coyote Poetry]

You are welcome Rosa.

[Mark]

I never quite remember how remarkable your writing is until I read another piece of yours. Nicely done.

[Rosalind Gale]

Thank you, Mark!

-x-

[Pete]

this is fantastic. you write with a smooth depth. i really enjoyed this.

[Rosalind Gale]

Why thank you, Pete. It is very lovely to say so -

-x-

[emmajoy]

Reading.. reading.. missing the change of direction along the way, returning to an earlier point. Mull over. Discover a sense, an emotion extreme which must be kept safe.. savoured.. allowed to fly or not. Perhaps?

[Rosalind Gale]

Thank you, Emma -
-x-

[Nipplegrinder]

This is astounding poetry.

[Rosalind Gale]

Thank you -
-x-

[Sami Khalil]

Masterful in all aspects and chattering to the senses. You bend poetry to your will. Kudos.

[Rosalind Gale]

Thank you Sami!
-x-

[Sami Khalil]

You are welcome.

[Leslie Philibert]

Yes, an excellent write, full of powerful imagery,
a poem to enjoy...

[Neville]

What a cerebral and otherwise compelling read this turned out to be. I am delighted to have found what appears to be your most recent post here on The Writers Cafe site and look forward to many subsequent delights. All Good Things, Neville

[Rosalind Gale]

Thanks so much, Neville -
-x-

[Corset]

As I sit here reading you again, chopsticks in hand, I wonder at sticky rice, how it each tiny piece clings to each other and somehow stays aloft to my mouth.
people wait because sometimes people come back, often not, but the ones made of intuitiveness and distant joy think of us, and in return, those nice and sometimes injured thoughts transform our days into something that has a hole in it...or something that feels so wonderful that it just feels right all over even when things fall down or have to bend to the brightness of it

[Rosalind Gale]

Hmm, sticky rice, loves ;)
-xx-

[jacob erin-cilberto]

a feeling so similar to what i get when reading Anne Sexton....

the phrasing reminiscent...this is quite a good piece...of self-effacing...the first line, i read "were" as "where"----

we are oven overweight with pressures and sadness of life.

j.

[Rosalind Gale]

Thank you J. I was not too sure where this poem was heading. It was going to be longer. It is one of those one goes back to and realigns. I hope you are well -
-x-