Used to have a few things worth their metric weight;
like a great-grandmother, till they buried her in her tiny town, a small rectangular grove of Illinois dirt piled high against the late summer sun.
Shaded by an elm tree, she lived on Cherry Street. Kept mint and marmalade tea with old friends. Had a porcelain doll collection in a curio cabinet that she had come to resent. A life of plucking strawberry dreams. She was happy, but I never really knew her outside (or inside) of her statement:
'I love God'
There was mother, who was not a mother but my child. And when I turned eighteen, I told her we weren't going to live together any longer. Not even in the same country.
I still have a grandmother out there, somewhere, that holds marbles in her mouth-
Seeing as we don't talk anymore but she's been sending jokes in emails for years
Inside the jeers, I hear her seething and teething;
a growling rumble in the laughter
I close them up into electronic trash
because we cannot learn to speak the same language.
(she loves her children,
and I do not)
There are needs I have, but there is no one that can help me with that. So I canceled all my magazine prescriptions because they weren't helping my fallen health and wiped my name from tally boards of people keeping score.
I have to admit, that I just don't want to do this anymore. But there's no one to listen.
Life is a gift, that I try to give away; and fail like clockwork. Past two am, it occurs to me, that fingers look like wet noodles when someone doesn't want something;
That smiles are subjective,
depending on the angle.
Author notes
Thanks for the invite Muddy. It's been awhile, hasn't it?
In a list
A contest entry
- 100th Contest ....for my Favorites by MuddyKing.
10000 points, ended September 23, 2007, 23 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 16 of 16
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oh I knew that's what you meant..lol
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magazine prescriptions ...this struck me since subscriptions is usually the norm, but I have grown not to expect that from you...you are a thinker and never change that about yourself
I could go on and on about what lines I liked, but it's not about the words with you....it's the response that seeps in the back of our minds. You make us relate with the obscure and accept life for what it is.
Not what we make it, what we can live with.
I'ved missed you as have so many by the comments.
That tells me you are a favorite of many.
I won't Annalise this any further...lol
a true contender
and yes it has been awhile, change that girl
we miss you
peace and hugs
Muddy
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Yes, I did mean prescriptions. Normal is boring. You'll have to excuse me if I step over the line.
It's nice to hear from you. -
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Black
Lot of mind numbing anger is what I got out of this. Past anger and blissful(?) who gives a shit present. Biting and intense as usual. Hadn't seen you around for awhile and remembered you aren't doing contests any more. Damn. But anyway, really love this ~ keep it up.
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wow
that poem showed a lot of emotion and sadness it hmmmm i can''t even describe it damn .........!!!!!!
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Such beautiful numbness, between the enamel nooks. .
Why is it I heard a busted jewelry box as I read? Perhaps, just in MY head ~ yes, while ~ smoking..
You knew I'd breeze through here, eventually. .
What kind of groupie, would I be?
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Ooo fogot these
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This is so astoundingly beautiful, I mean your sentiments scream out from each word. Brilliant again!
Yet this time I have a thought, I would like to know about the Grandchild who left the house a bit more. But this doesdn't have to be a part of this poem.
Typo:
canceled all my magazine prescriptions >>>cancelled???
I REALLY THIS. YOU ARE MY AP CRUSH... FOREVER -
You know, I don't like it very often, but you achieved a nice effect with the switch-off between freeverse, with lots of spacing and formatting to convey tone, and straight prose. I'd be interested to see what you could do in just straight prose - you write elegantly.
The only thing that threw me off a little bit is the line beginning "past two am". It's an interesting thought, but I guess "wet noodles" distracted me from the decidedly dark tone of the piece. Maybe I'm alone in finding the phrase "wet noodles" distinctly comical (or, heck, maybe you just want some part of this to be lighter, but that seems unlikely), but it did seem out of place, a bit.
Anyway, the rest is very well written, and some of the phrases you turn (particularly "outside (or inside) her statement") are both cleverly penned and uniquely expressive.
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Very deep and sad.
I find this very sad and far too intense. There should be room in the life of this person for some happiness and laughter. It is a very unusual read and I find it hard to wrap my head around. All I can think of to say is may God bless this soul whoever she may be. -
Wow,
I can relate to the family problems. I am amazed at all the power in this. Your talent always overwhelms me.
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I liked it mostly
The breaking and spacing threw me off a little but after I read it, I was glad I did. Good work.
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What stands out to me is the stark contrast you and I have with our respective pasts. I do like your way of using the English language to knead the very essence of emotion from the dough of the reader. Best of luck in the contest.
Sincerely,
Leo Long
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Well it should hardly be surprising that I immediately was curious about a poem that uses your name in its title. What is particularly interesting to me is that, perhaps because this IS so clearly personal at the family level, the poetry is less abstract than some other examples of your work. And to be honest, I for one strongly approve of that concession, at least here. The reason is that it makes for even more emotional impact when you cite pyschological aspects of those around you in both literal and metaphoric terms, such as "I still have a grandmother out there, somewhere, that holds marbles in her mouth-" and the particularly devestating lines about emails from that same grandparent:
"I close them up into electronic trash
because we cannot learn to speak the same language.
(she loves her children,
and I do not)"
I also like the subtle devices you use, like the inclusion of "ail like clockwork. Past two am, it occurs to me, that fingers look like wet noodles when someone doesn't want something;"
"Clockwork" appears in conjunction with the exact time "two a.m.", and "fingers" puns on the hands of the clock in addition to blurriness of the vision described. Anyway, an excellent poem, and a very tough one from an emotional focus.
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Actually, I really didn't want to use my name in the title. (it seems a bit self absorbed) However, for the contest I entered, it was required.
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