(june, 2008)
we wake up
find our sweaters and shift
out the door we weren't supposed to enter.
the sun is rising and it's cold
my feet touch the ground and i am lonely for the
warmth of you.
i just want to reach out and grab you,
i want to hold you and tell you i love you,
i want to make you promise you'll never let me go.
but it's too late and soon they will stir,
so i hurry hurry and it's so so cold.
i am paper mache and untouchable
you are the ark and all it's water
crowding, suffocating, choking.
i want to be able to tell you that i'm sorry
but it's too soon for me right now. too soon to let you.
///
she is shuffling and i am gathering my bones up
in little plastic cups and
shooing her out the door
it is autumn and the leaves fall like dead children
scattered about the lawn, on my clothes, clinging to my skirts.
i want to wake up in the aftermath of all of this,
i want to feel the wind and kiss all the empty things that are withering up into the earth.
the moths fly about and i
run for cover under the street lamp
my solitary friend,
my invisible glowing ally.
i feel the cancer slithering up to meet me
in the sideways glances that you shoot out
of your irises and your retinas twirl in
anticipation of the mockery that will
follow me in my
demise.
i have always been
such
a
hypocrite.
[p.3]
marry me, oh sweet boudier,
oh plum drum little pudding cup,
oh bud of flower and exciting afternoon
harmony,
oh cloud in the sky, oh stupid metaphor,
oh marry me, marry me.
i am untouched like the rain
pure and gentle, soft, skinless, hopeless, nameless.
i am ragged like the whore,
torn, diminished, hopeful, candy.
i am sweet like a child,
hold me,
love me,
burden me with your guilt.
Author notes
i've been reading too much anne sexton.
i am a monotony
Comments
1 - 16 of 16
-
i like your line breaks. they are kind of unexpected.
this is amazing. i looove it.
-
-
thank youuu.<3
-
-
dude you are rediculous, like, damn. its like..yay im getting better ;D!
then i read this and im like: oh yeah but im still an amateur..
in other words, your amazing.
;D
-
I LOVE ANNE SEXTON! she's my absolute favorite, without a doubt.
but that's a side note; it just got me excited.
about your poem, I absolutely adore it. lame way to put it: I want to eat it up.
I'll definitely re-read it, and put a bookmark on it.
-
find our sweaters and shift
i haven't heard the term 'shift' used since i was a little girl in arkansas. you took me back to some very pleasant memories. thank you for doing so and i am looking forward to reading more from you in the very near future. viyanna rosemarie
ps--anne sexton always gets my attention too
-
Every time I read this, I have a different point of view by the final block of spacing. The vibrant awakenings in verse1, followed by dying leaves and cancer in verse2 don't prepare me for verse3...but then, life isn't linear either. LOTS of bits to ponder. Thanks.
-
You have been reading too much "anne sexton"? That may well be true, except I have never heard of her, but I will go and google her. Is she related to Sexton Blake I wonder? One other thing: I am writing a wonderful series of memory poems - Where do you live? I could write a poem about how my gay aunt Edwardo got beaten to death by a goat near there.
-
-
her poetry is amazing, she herself was a very...interesting lady? haha.
anyway, you don't have to like her, but i do. -
...excuse me?
i'm a bit confused, but if you really don't know who anne sexton is you should google her. she's amazing. -
-
excuse me 2.
I'm a bit confused, why should I have heard of Anne Sexton? Why should I google her and why should that make her amazing? I just googled the name (and here is what I found from Wikipedia - I have corrected the bad grammar, atrocious punctuation and mis-spellings in the entry):
Sexton was born in Newton (Massachusetts) and spent most of her life near Boston, Massachusetts. Her parents were Ralph Gray Harvey and Mary Gray Staples (NOTE: SO WHY WAS SHE CALLED SEXTON?). In 1945, she began attending a boarding school...for a time as a young woman, she modelled for Boston's Hart Agency. Sexton suffered from complex mental illness. Her first manic episode took place in 1954. After a second breakdown in 1955, she met a Dr Martin Orne, who was to become her longtime "therapist"...Sexton believed she was not valuable except in her ability to please men and told Orne in her first interview that her only talent might be for prostitution. He later told her that his evaluation showed that she had a creative side and encouraged her to take up poetry.
Though she was very nervous about it and needed a friend to make the phone call and accompany her to the first workshop, she enrolled in her first poetry workshop with John Holmes as instructor. Afterwards, Sexton experienced remarkably quick success with her poetry, with her poems accepted by The New Yorker, Harper's Magazine, and the Saturday Review. Sexton also studied with Robert Lowell at Boston University alongside distinguished poets Sylvia Plath and George Starbuck. (sic).
Sexton's poetic life was further encouraged by her mentor, W.D. Snodgrass, whom she met at the Antioch Writer's Conference in 1957. His poem, "Heart's Needle", about his separation from his three year old daughter, encouraged her to write "The Double Image," a poem significant in expressing the multi-generational relationships existing between mother and daughter. "Heart's Needle" was particularly inspirational to Sexton because at the time she first read it her own young daughter was living with her mother-in-law. Sexton began writing letters to Snodgrass and they soon became friends. While working with Holmes, Sexton encountered Maxine Kumin, with whom she became good friends throughout the rest of her life. Kumin and Sexton rigorously critiqued each other's work, and wrote four children's books together.In the late 1960s, the manic elements of Sexton's illness began to affect her career. She still wrote and published work and gave readings of her poetry. She also collaborated with musicians, forming a jazz-rock group called "Her Kind" that added music to her poetry. She also wrote "Mercy Street", a play produced off-Broadway after several years of revisions in 1969.
I'm sorry, I got bored after that.
-
-
-
there is some really good stuff going on here, i enjoyed the read take care
-
holy smokes. baby.
you amaze me. I want to write this good.
oooooh so lovely
-
-
"good" is an adjective. "well" is the adverb". Unless you know the differenece you will not never write goodly.
-
-
woderful, i love the imagery!
-
it's like a lullaby. of some sort.
-
i lovelovelove this.
"i am untouched like the rain
pure and gentle, soft, skinless, hopeless, nameless.
i am ragged like the whore,
torn, diminished, hopeful, candy."
this is my favourite bit doll.
i miss you! xx
Adding your comment:
1 - 16 of 16
