she had mary’s blood and a pondering bone
she was as stable as a wick and ate our wicked
until
her mouth grew sore as she cried:
daughter! daughter!
where is my vinegar?
o, mother, you gave it away in a gift
of sponges and panty-liners
spotted and dotted with children
you declined to hold
their little hands
blunt cold
upon your sliced back
but she was gentle in her tea
service and washed my father’s foot
like a vine
like a door
like a sweet whore
who earns her tips by refusing
to learn the word
no
do you know
you have won nothing
from buddha
and jerusalem does not call you
sister
but like three cock crows
and a uterus nailed
you are simply
left
but your guilt
will last more than the standard
three day shipping
though you spent the time
swallowing
all the meat parts
and wear the red to the funeral
on saint rot’s day
and though your pious poison
can neither save soup or soul
i wish to reckon it
with gumball fervor
that the wood is only
a rocker
placed near a window
of hot cocoa
and you
merely a winter cat
purring
to the snow
Author notes
for my mother...who no longer needs to swallow such 'bitter water'...
A contest entry
- In Search of.... by Nicole Hanna.
1000 points, ended January 13, 2007, 14 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - No work required for this contest. Prewrites only. by yoopea.
617 points, ended July 21, 2007, 74 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 10 of 10
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"o, mother, you gave it away in a gift
of sponges and panty-liners
spotted and dotted with children
you declined to hold
their little hands"
Oh how you inspire me! I love love love it. Congratulations on the gold. You deserve it!
xAx
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Brilliant
There are several lines in this that I am envious of. You are masterful in your allusion and symbolism. Bravo.
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My favorite lines:
but your guilt
will last more than the standard
three day shipping
though you spent the time
swallowing
all the meat parts
and wear the red to the funeral
on saint rot’s day
and though your pious poison
can neither save soup or soul
Wow. This was very intense, though a little too mature for me. I found it very thought provoking, and.. just, wow. I really enjoyed it! Good job, and good luck!~
~Lindsay -
but she was gentle in her tea
service and washed my father’s foot
like a vine
like a door
like a sweet whore
who earns her tips by refusing
to learn the word
no
amazing!! haha! I don't know what to say apart from the way you write is truely incredible!! you get nothing but awe! (and of course the clappy people to add to your stash of smiley faces)
-
Darcy, girl, you punch and slice.
This really reminded me so much of Marge Piercy in its cut and in its feminism.
"she was as stable as a wick and ate our wicked"
"like a vine
like a door
like a sweet whore"
I love that list
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Excellent. I agree with Rob's comment, there's so many lines here that I could paste as my favorite, but that would be posting most of this in it's entirety. I think
S3 though, really described the servility of your mother, and the how important it was to that generation to maintain that persona. And S4, well that is just so raw, and honest. This is damn good. Period.
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A write which felt as if the reader was experiencing stigmata,oh the pain felt within this was intense and I am now guilty of crying and of burning the dinner which I should be rescuing instead of typing through tears full to brimming of a life lived in service of man and God and still being left instead of right.
Girl,you sure know your way around twenty six letters and make them your own.
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DAMN!
So full of vibrant meloncolia.
"do you know
you have won nothing
from buddha
and jerusalem does not call you
sister
but like three cock crows
and a uterus nailed
you are simply
left"
Someday, I hope to write a stanza like that.
Your incredable imagery hammers the reader with your own reverent irreverence.
sister! sister!
here is my vinegar
ancient and sweet
in it's bitter bite.
Thank you for sharing this.
If Sylvia were alive today, she may be writing such as this.
Peace
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Wow. I'm not sure I actually understand this, but I love it. It's so well written and what I get out of it very deep, though I'm not sure I'm right. Thanks for sharing
~Diana
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ahh- she was gentle in her tea.... yes! ... so quiet is the storm brewing in the bones and china.. the sheer beauty of porcelain and the queitude of it all
this is story worth reading
.... really beautiful in its sadness Darcy...
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