Pasentol hunched across
his mother's bed
the paleness of her new death
was palpable
he didn't seem to mind
that he was all but alone
now that umbilical fetterings
had been severed
He still talked sheepishly
as a son would do to a
sleeping parent
whispering through coy
unhealed smiles
his utmost dreams and wishes
his spit was careless though
as it stained her brilliantine tarp
which had begun to take the shape
of her motionless
cadaver
The room was lime green
like the pea hued color
of overcast sundown
as night was falling
Pasentol began to nod off
his eye's passed on
just as the last light of day
went tumbling over
the sounds of addled laughter
on his
ant hill horizon
In dreams he was
not so alone
A contest entry
- anti-dreams by unraveled.
750 points, ended December 18, 2008, 21 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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I love your writing.
You hit things in the very depths of me with your words.
Goodness.
Great write. Your descriptive techniques remain unmatched
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you have written of Pesentol before if i am remembering correctly... I liked them.. almost they could be in a series - and if you havent... my mistake but i could have sworn LOL...
good luck with this in the contest....as always your ability to details is wonderful and the way you group things is awsome... like the brilliantine tarp section!
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awwwwwww this is very sad but it's like you can picture the entire scene. You did a wonderful job describing the scene as to put the reader in the room with the son and the dead mother. Very well penned!
Peace and Love
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love this. it manages to sound like a dream and an anti-dream at once. you just capture the side of life that is surreal yet exists. that and i'm glad to see pasentol again. :
thank you for entering
cassidy
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