The narrative of crooked hands coiled in a skein of lolled limb and sheets--
When torridly burned from skidding the shroud of a fleshy hull shaved from its pith,
Can only gesticulate a bitter thieving moan
A pale overlay laced in powdered-blue veins bending a foreshortened dot,
"Swindler of shivering susurrations, owner of hasty palms,"
Dripping sentiments of silence, "You cherished regret!"
Scrawled from the womb of hollow compromise
Of nails that scratch shallow erubescent lines of beveled fortune
And still the twine limps unaffected or moved
Covering the foundation and bloody chest in mesh
But under the glassy pane, a soft gaze still sings
Susie E.
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2 comments:
The first impression I got from reading this poem is that it draws upon some things that are very personal to you- I know most of your poems do that, but this one seems especially intimate to you, if you get what I'm saying.
""Swindler of shivering susurrations, owner of hasty palms,""
I like the turn of phrase you have here.
To me this poem seems to be about a bad experience you had, something you regret, caused by someone else perhaps. Of course I could (and probably am) be completely misreading it.
"But under the glassy pane, a soft gaze still sings"
My favourite line- it ends the poem on an upward, hopeful note.
PS- new poem up on MV, not sure about it so would appreciate your thoughts.
Susie,
Wow.
I've been away from the interwebs a lot over the past couple of weeks, and haven't yet been able to fashion something about exactly why I think this is so good (though I will do!) so for now I'll join Quetz in admiring the line
"But under the glassy pane a soft gaze still sings"
and say that I've always thought "susurrations" was one of the most beautiful words in the language...
(It's not just about words and lines though, of course. I'll come back to this after I've read it some more...Wow, again...)
Mark_W
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