Thursday, July 21, 2005

Songs Unentitled

What would my dead mother say,
knowing I still mourn you--
you, the same one who tore
my flesh open, leaving dank
blood trails for the squirrels
to track through, come morning.

What would my father say
from her side, worms
lifting their heads listening,
if I told him you still sing
in my dreams, barefoot
and sprawled at my bathroom door,
suds bubbling over the hole
that once held my heart,
that same heart that danced
Sambas whenever your
hand brushed my cheek.

12 comments:

Rae Pater said...

oh Pris! Wow!

This is so powerful, and painful at the same time.

Pris said...

rae
thanks. this is one of those that just poured out. i'm glad it hit for you.
pris

Anonymous said...

squirrels? the image of squirrels derails what you're trying to do here methinks.

Pris said...

tell me how so and give me a suggestion. i'm always open.

Michael Parker said...

Very well written, Pris. Sad, yet poignant.

Pris said...

Thanks, Michael
It's odd how I can draw on these old lost loves and write about them, even though I'm not thinking about this morbidly. I think I'm just naturally the 'Patsy Cline of poetry':-)

tammy said...

Pris, I really love this poem. You do a wonderful job of resurrecting a past love, as well as the memory of the deceased parents. The two memories seem intertwined - I can't help but wonder if their love was forbidden. A love disapproved of by the parents.

Pris said...

Hi Tammy
This was an ex and both of my parents knew he would break my heart. To their credit, they never interfered and tried to stop me...knew it would do no good. They told me afterwards that they simply told each other that they didn't want to alienate me since I would need them when this was over. And over it did indeed become. And they were there for me. Good folk, my parents.

Michael Parker said...

The Patsy Kline of poetry? That's hilarious! Personally speaking, she's out of your league; can't hold a candle to your intellect and talent.

Pris said...

Hi Michael
that's my canned response when people say 'why don't you write a happy poem??' (and btw, I DO write those , too..even funny ones..oh the scandalous confession I'm making here)

If they ask me to write about flowers and sunshine, I tell them if they want a poem about that to write it themselves lol.

Thanks for the compliment. I do appreciate.:-)

Rebekah said...

I disagree with Unknown... I like the image of the squirrels. Makes the idea of your heart being ripped out more feral and wild.

Great poem. Not depressing, just sad acknowledgement.

Pris said...

Hi again, Rebekah
Yes, the squirrels worked for me, too, and the image you saw was just the one I wanted to create. Thanks for affirming.