up and down my spine
I feel the energy sometimes
like lightning
electricity woman shakes like a rattle
the surges of light
in the dark nest of her sadness
plugged into some source
of the universe
she is split inside out
charred trunk of a tree woman
scarred
and carved
out
split a part
her parts
renovated
with juice of another storm
she never forgets
and will follow the wild tongues of loose talk
that tells
what is horrifying
but true
shaken
she rattles across the fields
with zing
and
hissing
only in the blackened unlit world
of field and furrows
some seed grows
down
first
before
the unravelling
all things said,
in the unsaid
she knows something
about touch of some creature you love
before it dies
and the spitting sadness
of absence
she calls in all the ravens
she calls in the coyotes
riding on tornadoes
and chaos
the world spins towards summer
Iraq is a name on her black tongue
Darfur
Zimbabwe
Teddy
Kitty
Ernest
dead fathers choke her throat
the refugee camps overflow
her pelted brain
brandishes
countries like a sword
of respect
unforgotten
untold
rewoven
Kali
Cunt
cacophany
Author notes
This came as a response to marycat's image22 contest after it closed and I saw the photo of lightning striking a field--just poured out, so
this is a riff on that image; I am open to editing comments, or just what "strikes" you about it; I know it is raw and unrefined, and I also like that .
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 7 of 7
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Tremendous emotion is released in the winged words. A creation begun in despair perhaps. Perhaps the lightening was necessary to unleash the dark thoughts. Applauding. Hoping the reweaving has blessed.
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such an amazing write- a strong voice ripping through this..
i wish you could see me applaud this piece
write more
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It reminds me of a kundalini awakening and I really like the ending...all the fragmentation is pretty well done too.
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I love the disjointed but connected feel of it.. but those last three words.. those say it all for me.
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I was going to say you should have had this in Mary's contest, Kat.
I feel the rage and the way that if you are running in the storm, standing even, it seems to flash and bang and spatter with all those things- like when you tip out the dingle drawer- there are things that were in there last week and things that have been there a hundred years- the storm tips them out of your mind as the rain lacerates.
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What can be more 'raw' than a lightning strike?
Please don't slick this up.
sometimes the most powerful poetry has a red meat violence to it...a primal scream built in if you will.
Good stuff
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how about amazing.
don't change a thing. sometimes the world needs to hear it as it flows without spit and polish
i'm sobbing, was already sobbing before i got here but now just a bit more.
lisa
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