Questions
Posted by Rob Kistner | Filed under Free Verse, Image, Poetry, courage, dark, family, homage, horror, photo, tragedy, wisdom
and for prompt #59 at Carry On Tuesday…
•
he lifts himself quietly
from beneath the sheets
soiled with neglect
makes his way carefully
past the shallow-breathed crumple
that lay milky-eyed in a heap
un-moving on the floor
save a twitch of the sodden head
this wreckage is his mother
why do you just lie there mother
my head is full of demons son
the response only imagined
she remains slack and death-like
where nocturne angels of sweet release
had laid down lush upon her
in fevered embrace
lustfully conjured
by last night’s spoon and lance
still skewered silver in the soured vein
mother — why do you want to die
the return is only silence
he lingers but a moment
verifying life
then moves on
head down
he angles to the bathroom
to the scum-brown bowl
to wash his face
a face lit sallow by the yellowed bulb
that hangs bare and lonely
eyes of knowing
eyes of sadness
stare into the mirror
broken as his heart
then close
your eyes hold a story my son
will you tell me your story
yes mother
if you really want to hear about it
if you really could
• • •
rob kistner © 2010
June 29th, 2010 at 6:19 pm
This is a wow, Rob.
June 29th, 2010 at 7:38 pm
Thank you Maureen. This is a third, and significant rewrite, of a draft I began in 1998. It is drawn from a very sad situation, of several decades ago, that involved a young woman who was a member of my band at the time. It left a most indelible memory…
June 30th, 2010 at 7:24 am
a truly sad story written from knowing. always enjoy the timeI spend here. you take me to another place…another world…a place where I can observe and learn and not be seen…thanks
June 30th, 2010 at 10:26 am
I appreciate that you visit and comment Grizz…
…rob
July 2nd, 2010 at 6:59 am
Sometimes, silence can be an unhealable wound, yet also a gift that allows change and the altering of the end of the story. This is incredibly powerul,
Rob, thank you for going back, reworking, and bringing it to daylight.
Elizabeth
July 2nd, 2010 at 7:41 am
You are welcome Elizabeth, it is a deeply etched memory for me…
…rob
July 2nd, 2010 at 8:07 am
I’m glad you revisited this piece, too. Those things that are etched in our souls, scream to be dealt with in writing. You handled this memory well. It is a tragedy repeated too often in the world. Giving it voice is important.
July 2nd, 2010 at 8:53 am
I am pleased this work touched you Brenda, as the memory touches me — and I agree devastating situations such as these must be voiced…
…rob
July 2nd, 2010 at 10:37 am
Rob, this is such a sad situation. I hope the son in the poem is doing all right today. It would be hard to grow up in such a situation as this. Most probably, unlike this one, do not come to light of day. http://inthecornerofmyeye.blogspot.com/2010/07/true-tale.html
July 2nd, 2010 at 11:21 am
Compelling, sad, familiar. Nicely done. Unafraid to address the ugliness, like that sad yellow bulb or the brown bowl, but still transformative, in a way.
July 2nd, 2010 at 11:21 am
This is so powerfully written and so very sad…”nocturne angels of sweet release had laid down lush upon her” is a truly mesmerizing thought.
July 2nd, 2010 at 11:43 am
The mother OD’d Mary, the son went to his grandparents, then on to graduate school and marriage — but since I moved to the Pacific Northwest two decades ago, I’ve lost touch over the years…
…rob
July 2nd, 2010 at 11:45 am
It is a startling slice of life that plays out far too often Twitches…
…rob
July 2nd, 2010 at 11:48 am
Glad you found this piece engaging Cynthia…
…rob
July 3rd, 2010 at 1:32 am
All I can think about is the child’s future. Very bleak and very telling.
July 4th, 2010 at 9:06 am
I particularly like: “laid down lush upon her” with its double entendre and iambic beat.
July 4th, 2010 at 9:22 am
Thank you Deb — I am drawn to writing free verse, but enjoy infusing some rhythm, even some rhyme at times…
…rob
July 5th, 2010 at 6:03 am
Those moments of rhyme and rhythm in free verse can be so wonderful as they are here. The imagery in this is very vivid. Well done.
July 5th, 2010 at 7:05 pm
Thank you for your kind words James…
…rob