You know the traffic
On my hands.
The freckle on my palm
Is it cancer?
Will it grow like a mole,
Opening a hole to my future?
I have to know this,
I need confession, before
Curling fetal from myself.
I ask if you noted the time
When I hunted my old brother
Down white halls of Cardinal lane
Wearing ready, some sharp tool
Jumping on his scared belly
And calmly touching his throat,
But back then,
I had control over my hands
As he wriggled and snuffled
I ask, did you see me smile?
With a great sense of success
That I never used to cry.
Unless you saw the time
When I deprived God, around noon
Of some Sunday. I was ugly
And wet from the fat women
Growing their arms and shouting
Out, “Lord have mercy”
But that day he had none,
Just a cup of me, sweating out
Sin in a red skirt between my legs
Oh he touched me, and drank
Away faith like it was pink chardonnay
I ask, will you take these maps
Unmourned with detours
As dry as barren wives
And will you keep them.
Those rotten hands
Those cancerous devils
That refuse to pray.
Author notes
Written February 4th, 2005
What did you think
Comments
1 - 32 of 32
-
This was amazing. I love the analogy of relating calloused and wrinkled palms to praying, as well as referring to them as "maps" on behalf of the palm reader. I would actually like to see two things: 1)A sequel of sorts, inofmring the reader of the directions your "life-lines" and "love lines" have taken you, and 2) To see this performed onstage. I think recited with enough emotion andf flare, this has great potential to wow an audience. By chance, do you slam/take part in Spoken Word?I will definitely read more of your work in the future, as you have certianly made a fan today. Please feel free to return the favor, and read any/all of my own poetry posted on this site.-Curtis Meyer
-
ask, will you take these maps
Unmourned with detours
As dry as barren wives
awesome! -
:/
YA I THOUGH YOUR POEM WAS A OK KEEP UP THE WORK -
Excellent
Excellent write here! I was expecting something totally diffent than the title implied. Each stanza was packed with fabulous images, I can't pick a favorite. Excellent write.
~Dee -
people think that the lines on ones hands never change, butthey do , some change their destination, some disappear, or new ones come to the surface ...an interesting poem, ..very interesting .... from a palm reader
-
BEAUTIFUL
Oh, Ashes, we are your blind border collies following the clang of cowbells reminding us of our purpose. How tedious you must find us, we who never live more fully nor are more convinced of our wisdom than when fed on your rich harvest. We never ask, do we: at what cost you draw from life's experience these droplets of sangria... blood-wine. We drink up and go on.
I ask, will you take these maps
Unmourned with detours
As dry as barren wives
And will you keep them.
Those rotten hands
Those cancerous devils
That refuse to pray.
I am in an unfamiliar place....... on my knees.
luv rut -
Excellent extended 'flesh' metaphor- I like the juxtaposition of religion and the communion associations of blood with that of corruption, cancer and perversity. Very highly tuned and with a massive emotional impact.
-
You never fail to disappoint Ms Bright. Genius poem that I could spend weeks deciphering for every minute detail. This is one of the reasons I return to this site - one of the few incredibly inspiring poets who bend themselves away from anything remotely cliche. Who pour themselves into words in a way that leaves you wanting more and more. Who dig deep for originality and expression.
I love the sexual / religious component of this. A loss of faith tied in with the search for answers to past, present and future. The struggle in shedding expectation and the guilt associated with this. It speaks volumes of cynisism and inner turmoil, conveys incredible emptiness. The final stanza was my favourite.
Bookmarked for brilliance Ashes.
~ Sonia ~ X
-
Very odd, Ashes, but very good. You always manage to hold the attention of the reader with your unusual imagery. Very odd, indeed.
Hugs, your Jaden....
-
hmmm... well i think i know what you were writing about it, but i am not certain. nicely-written though, yes, nice words!
-
Wow, I really, really loved this. The wording and imagery was fantastic. It just drew me in and kept me reading. I couldn't get enough. Sin in a red skirt between my legs.. Whoa..
-
omg I love this.
this is along the lines of what I am wishing people would enter into my current contest
the expression here is astoundingly good and makes for a very refreshing read.
~Lea -
haha corkhead!!!!
-
I'll delve deep between you to drink your Chardonnay...call me cork head...
-
"I was ugly
And wet from the fat women
Growing their arms and shouting
Out, “Lord have mercy”" Wow (awesome)
Miss Ashley Dear,
You floor me still— e v e r y t i m e... You can't ever stop writing sweetie, its in your blood. We have much in common.
Loved this one,
~ Wendy
-
I hate maps..and hate even more knowing of futures that make me sad..so ..put on some gloves..don't worry about cancerous confessions and regressions and just be you
-
oh my smashly..
this is my newest favorite of yours..
it's built into perfect. and swims through my head, i'll be meditating on it for some time. i like where it lead my thoughts.
i've been told i would be quite interesting to a palm reader, my hands are so wrinkled on their underside, confused, probably misguided.
the stanza on the red skirt is my favorite here. i love the crashing femininity of it. brillant you.
really.
*sweetness*
l-. -
For some reason, my jaw is at my feet. (Maybe you could tell me where my tongue has gone) Or perhaps it got lost somewhere between the fat ladies and the pink chardonnay. I don't know, but I've been woven to the palm of your hands... just another added sin, I suppose. But, this was absolutely divine.
-
well thanks for your comment
and i will say that if the poem was built around
"being damned to follow christian thought" i could name
a number of reasons why...i myself do not partake in such a thing, but sometimes there is more than what is just seen on the surface... atleast i think its a good idea to have an open mind when dealing with poetry, don't you?
ta ta for now -
`
Ikes... wonderful poetry, but I don't agree with the meaning, can't. For what reason does someone thinking themselves damned believe follow Christian thought? -
excellent
Oh my. I am new to your poems and in this, you have found a big fan.
An excellent poem. One of the best I have read in a long time.
thanks,
Talia -
This is simply beautiful. There's no other way to describe it. Stunned.
Andrea
-
Wow. I don't know what to say. The tone in this poem is like, well let's just say I can't find a good enough word to say. If you people keep writing like this, you're going to make my poetry feel like it was written the period before it was due.
-
teheheeehehehe
-
YAYYYYYY!!! Does the Happy Squirrel Dance of Delight and Desire!!
-
well tina,
coming from you
the goddess of all that is great!
i'm going to take those words
and sleep with them forever!
-
lol onerios, you make me melt
all yours for the taking
-
This is perfect poetry. How could anyone think otherwise?
This is truly truly truly damn good. You are one helluva poet ms Bright.
-
crystaldust 04-02-05 21:48
This is brilliant,Ashley Bright. A poem of riches indeed. It burns with anger, pain, self-analysis without maudlin pity. Oh yes, it's really great, this one. Those two opening lines are a stroke of genius 'You know the traffic On my hands'. Wow.
I like the rhyme popping up half way through a line, too. And the verses pushing me on to read right through to the end. Thank you for this one. -
Unless you saw the time
When I deprived God, around noon
Of some Sunday. I was ugly
And wet from the fat women
Growing their arms and shouting
Out, “Lord have mercy”
Move over, Ana...it's MY turn to worship my Lady Wife!! But truly, she speaks the truth, my Lady Bright, for yet again, you have stunned the masses with your electrifying strobes of incandescent light and hushed even the mewling babies deprived of milk mothers gone to the feast...in all aspects do you shine and eclipse the very stars...
Just once more, marry me...
-
haha ana
don't even go there
you know you rawk harder! MUAH
-
You are a master. Truly, a master of all things poetic, and I shall forever bow at your glorious feet in hopes just a small tear of your talent will fall on me.
Was that worshipful enough? lol
Adding your comment:
1 - 32 of 32
16 old applause
