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corner cobwebs
there is a natural succession
to the way we breathe,
as if the trees could sweep the ground
of our buried
instead my dead sits
on closet shelves,
brown wrapped packages
with labels –
but grandpa got a pine box,
six by four confines
sealed
as if we’d really want to see a fragment
of bone and discuss which piece
remained dense,
there was this ironic fascination
with death,
google tells me
what I will die of all the time
decayed lives
forge way for new birth sliding
between bent legs,
thighs
held in triangles
as the sweat poured on red faces
you forget the pain
of labor
and the pulse racing, body frictions
when conception
happened
on nights laced with emotion
holding squalling lungs,
faces streaked
with the comfort of wombs
and for seconds everything stops still
love lightens
the untied strings lay still
unmattering
as the circle completes itself
and later
when I sit in rocking chairs that creak
more than my bones
we’ll joke
about who gets custody
of the past ashes
and whose closet I would live
inside
Review Request (Intensity):
I appreciate moderate constructive criticism
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Region & Country
Florida, originally NY.
Favorite Poets
I believe inspiration can come from the famous and the everyday poets, to name all my favorites would take forever.
Comments
Race_9togo
Thu, 2011-03-31 23:23
Hello Melissa,
Welcome to Neopoet...or I should say welcome back, for I took a quick look at your profile, and could swear I've read those words before!
No matter, welcome, and welcome again, regardless.
Your poem is excellent. The cadence is very good, the poem almost sings when spoken aloud, and I love the way you move from old death into new birth, then into old age at the end.
Two minor things...
"instead my dead sits"
I wanted to read
"instead my dead sit"...because I assumed that there was more than one, as I read,
and I don't understand "unmattering" in this context; does it mean dying or dissolving, here? That is how I interpreted it.
Even so, this is very good work.
Respectfully, Race
"Laws and Rules don't kill freedom: narrow-minded intolerance does" - Race-9togo
http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/Race_9togo
Melissa Gayle
Fri, 2011-04-01 21:55
Thank you, Jim.
Thank you, Jim.
For some reason I think I may have been here before...but it was quite a bit ago and I could be completely wrong and it could have been a different site. As to your suggestions, I will definitely work with them. Thanks for the welcome.
♥ Melissa
author commentEduardo Cruz
Fri, 2011-04-01 00:00
Melissa
welcome to where free thinking poets live.
I love the progression circle of life in this half rhythm freeform prose,
will done and thought out. the ashes that continue to carry the memory of life in our head, is very good. creak, creak, creak.
good job, with imagery
Eddie
LIFE ISN'T ABOUT WAITING FOR THE STORM TO PASS
IT'S ABOUT LEARNING HOW TO DANCE IN THE RAIN.
VIVIAN GREENE
Melissa Gayle
Fri, 2011-04-01 21:56
Thanks, Eddie. Sometimes I
Thanks, Eddie. Sometimes I feel like my meaning gets waylaid, but in the end, the pieces are personal in many respects. I appreciate your kind comments.
♥ Melissa
author commentvexations10
Fri, 2011-04-01 08:03
Interesting poem
as Eduardo has said there is some solid imagery here. I’d drop the word “really” in the second verse. Also, the last line of the second verse seems to break your pattern and might be reworded. Verses three and four are my favorites because they seem very vivid and real. “Stop still” and lay still bother me, especially stop still (might it be rephrased?) The last verse is another of my favorites. Do you mean to say “live inside?” I may be missing your intent because I want to say something along the lines of “encounter eternity.” Nonetheless, I like this thought provoking work.
vexations
Melissa Gayle
Fri, 2011-04-01 21:54
Thank you kindly, bear with
Thank you kindly, bear with me working through this new site...I'm not always technically inclined. As to your suggestions, I will definitely look into them. Thanks so much.
♥ Melissa
author commentCCfire
Fri, 2011-04-01 23:16
I can see
You will be well read...perhaps you are relaunching yourself here..your pieces always speak to me with the deeply personal issues you weave within the words. My only nit is the same as one above, 'dead sit' as I look at 'dead' as plural already but perhaps I am reading it wrong. I love the longer stuff of yours because you pull at our insides as a reader, the brevity is fun for people who have no patience to read long poems but then perhaps we shouldn't call them poets eh? *hugs*
Chez
"The perfect woman perpetrates literature as she does a small sin: as an experiment, in passing, to see if anybody notices it - and to makes sure that somebody does." - Nietzsche