Her compliments were exquisite –
a veritable feast of words
on which to feed my hungry soul,
which had grown gaunt and gray of late.
But my anorexic spirit refuses to dine.
No wine or meat is fine enough
to tempt it from this desperate course.
It has lost its appetite for life,
and no delicacy of word or deed is
sufficiently savory to coax it forth again.
It is doomed to the bone yard, and I fear
I shall have nothing left with which
to grieve its pathetic passing.
Author notes
Sorry....dark night of the soul.
Written June 2nd, 2006
In a list
What did you think
Comments
1 - 20 of 20
-
This made my heart clench. A dense piece of darkness, a bitter taste that I've come to expect lingering in my palate. Wonderful, beautiful, melancholic, flooding with an exquisite gothic fragrance. I loved this. And now am prompted to read more from you,
. Thank you for sharing your dark night with us. I enjoyed it thoroughly, and can relate immensely. Cheers.
~S.
-
It's great how you put this poem together, a person willing to take in a compliment but the feelings refuse.
-
The art you chose made me think of an old 70s album cover:
http://tralfaz-archives.com/coverart/K/king_crimson_court.html
Beautifully written:
But my anorexic spirit refuses to dine.
John -
A perfect little snack for a certain girl about my height who is feeling a little dark today too.
Your words are amazing Debs- strung together delicately, and far more palatable than any eats.
You capture something significant and elusive- with a clarity that almost hurts the eyes.
Love this- because it hurts so good- and truth oozes from it's lovely lines. -
----and again i say you have grown so much within your writing skills, pain i think has given you a sharper edge, the broken glass upon the kitchen floor found barefoot in the middle of a dark night, the bitter wind ripping through the torn fabric of thin blouse in winter, the naked line offered in smoke filled whisky bars to disinterested alcoholics – whatever the reason it seems to have focused your imagery. This is brilliant when read aloud. This is brilliant when read silently. This is, dear poet, simply brilliant.
My sincerest apoliogies for not getting here sooner, i am not sure why it has taken me so long to get here – no excuse. i have wondered after you, thinking you were maybe kidnapped by an alien subspecies of troll-like creatures or locked in some basement where the only nourishment was a thousand bottles of one-hundred year old Madera and twenty years of back issues of New Republic for entertainment. My mind wanders nowadays to very, very strange places. I hope you don’t. Blessings and best wishes, ~richard
-
It’s been a long time…I’d say “hope everything’s ok” but from the tone of this post, I think it’s obvious that it isn’t the case. From a personal point of view, I know we haven’t spoken in a while, but if there’s anything I can do, please let me know. From a poetic point of view, this is crushing: its briefness lends it an additional hurt, if that makes sense – it feels like one of those confessions that comes out in one breath, all painful and quick and rushed: ‘No wine or meat is fine enough to tempt it from this desperate course’. I very much liked the emphasis on culinary terms – it felt like the author was starving, but for something other than food: love? truth? And the bone yard line was great aswell – basic, and frightening and naked. Beautifully written…and I do hope things get better for you soon X
-
"Blessed are they who hunger and thirst after righteousness, for they shall be filled." You make me think of this beattitude, which must have been cached in my subconcious from childhood. I once knew all of them by heart. Perhaps that is the secret to healing anorexia... seeking and knowing through the heart and not the senses. You moved me with your thoughts ... perhaps a pathetic passing of a desperate course is where a brighter course begins? I felt this to the nines.
~
Klassy
-
Silent Applause
I have so been there in my own way. I read a book titled, "Dark Night of the Soul". I experienced a night so all alone, few would ever understand it unless they had been there. You would (it sounds like) understand it from the insdie-out. I lost everything, even me. I became less than nothing and trusted God for no "reason". Logic meant nothing. Sunshine meant little to nothing and I no longer cared for the gifts of God. I cared for God, but the gifts were not needed anymore. I loved God for God, not for what God DID for me. I loved sunshine without its presence and loved people because of who I am, not for what they could or couldn't mean to me. I might sound loco, maybe not. But all I have is what I am...a broken spirit heart listenng to birdsong in the night in the back of my head and I float in the river of the mystery of trust.
Peace Through Holding Nothing~
Timothy -
In the last few years I have spent a lot of time teaching my students how to say thank you.
It seems to be the non-typical response to gratitudes.
Well written friend.
John -
Inkless, I think you're right about "pitiful"...but, I actually added "veritable". Yes, I know it is a very worn cliche, but it occurred to me that the reason cliches become cliche is that they say a certain something perfectly...or in the only way it can truly be said. So, I opted it in. I may cutit tomorrow....but, for now, I'll keep it I think.
Thanks for the very good eye and ear....and for the kind words.
-
Just wow.
"But my anorexic spirit refuses to dine"
Absolutely brilliant line, completely brilliant piece. -
logical
love the expression of insecurity i felt in this work. it made me think. -
A very interesting poem. Like the parched desert unable to absorb the abundance of water.
I really enjoyed this.
Talia -
Bravo!
I love you. Oh, right, and the poem, too. Especially 'anorexic spirit' and 'delicacy of word...sufficiently savory'. The imagery's incredible, though I am a bit hungry now. -
I liked the brooding imagery, especially the lines
"sufficiently savory to coax it forth again.
It is doomed to the bone yard, and I fear
I shall have nothing left with which
to grieve its pathetic pointless(do you need?) passing."
Also L2: do you need veritable?
D -
Very good poem! Love the language used. Keep it up!
-
Such a beautiful poem in a strange and almost gruesome way, your images and description are so original,
"But my anorexic spirit refuses to dine."
I loved that, it conjured up such an image in my head, that's the word to describe this write, magical and the picture adds to that surrealness of it.
Oh and pathetic pointless passing is so clever, alliteration, triplet, lovely
You're clearly a great writer, an artisan,
Mim
x
-
Ah but you do.. the passion it required to write this.. can't so easily be swept aside.
It can however be shoved in a closet, put under the bed, mummified ( pun there ) ..and several thousand or more other things of which I haven't the slightest idea..
Even in the dark of night your words shine like a star.. compliments aside... they simply do..
-
Outstanding!
Exquisite command of language. Imagery in the words is clear, this poem would stand on its own as a masterful work without the picture. Haven't read anything of yours in a while (this is AutomaticPilate), at least the wait was worth it.
Thanks for sharing!
- Giovanni
-
Simply amazing. There is no need to say anything about this poem..the emotion and the imagery(the picture) have made it all clear.
Adding your comment:
1 - 20 of 20
