Ditch the ads, upload images and much more - upgrade today from 5.95/month!
Read • Contests • Groups • Learn • Forums • Store • Help
 

M-O-M

the yellow milk
a cherished staple of her diet
and peeling into rotting oranges
was a privilege

won't you recede with me
from the stinging blows of
their silences
and
their sudden, distinctly not graceful outbursts

you know
they burn wickless candles
and hold the afterbirth in
to make themselves feverish and sickly
they never wanted to burn
like that

they weren't meant for it
oh god, they weren't
but does that mean
they can help it?
truly, they never wanted...

Author notes

third verse is just supposed to be nonsensical, because wickless candles won't burn, and if you hold in the afterbirth I'm pretty sure you'd die, or you just wouldn't be able to... it's just supposed to be a graphic, unnatural, shocking image/thought.

A contest entry

Est-ce que ça te dit?

    : , Your review:

    Comment Suggestion: What is your your first impression?
    • Line numbers  • Invite them to read
    : no Cost: 0 free left 0 points, You have (?)

Comments


  • Polaja Greeters member
    April 5, 2008

    Edit | Reply
    I like the imagery used in this poem - you certainly were spot-on with the shocking and unnatural feeling of the poem I wish you the best of luck in the contest!

    Keep writing

    Polly


  • SurelyWritten
    March 28, 2008

    Edit | Reply
    Full of semi-oxy-morons, loved that. I like this a lot. I didn't question it like your AN's seem to think I would.

    I loved the descriptions, the structure- Everything, very well-written poem!

    Thanks also for using all the words from the word bank.

    Thanks for entering,
    Shirley