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Subtle Death
My inner child was miscarried
In the yard of yesterday
Even the infant knew
That its birth was overdue
As it lay there, wailing, in the clay
The godmother’s eyes rolled quite freely
When she had taken all for lost
Her face swallowed by her wrinkled hands
Her fingertips laced with moss
The constellations were obscured by clouds
The flowers wilting with a hush
As winter stroked their pretty petals
Which had only begun to blush
The rebel laid his allegorical sword
At the feet of the theoretical king
The abbot invited his bell to sound
But could never hear it ring
I had waited for life
And also for death
All the while, testing my knife
With the heat of my breath
I thought “perhaps I shall be slain”
But my butcher judged by the weather-
That this simply wasn’t the day
So I suppose I will sit here in the gentle rain
Contented to decay
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This article has 40 comments.
I just, well, it's hard to explain and now you will be sentenced to seeing the needless ramble (muahaha!). Ever wonder about the thought processes of a leaf? Well here goes...
. The last stanza seemed to connect so well, although I do not know why (I have yet to have a personal butcher). It seems sort of...quintessential, for my characters. I guess that's why I connect to it: through my characters. They are like your babies, after all - something those who don't have a passion for writing and creating will never understand.
The first stanza reminded me a lot of my would-be older brother, who was miscarried. This probably seems silly, but have fantasies, so to speak, of him and how things would be like if he never died. I've always wanted an older brother, someone to share as a middle child (I have an older and younger sister, and he would've been in between me and my older's age), someone to 'protect' me, and the list can go on (I won't bore you that much though)... Actually, with the previous note of characters, two of my main ones are based on how I've imagined my brother.
As for your question, I've been feeling fairly...brooding, though in a good way. I've just been in a poetry mood, ya know? That's why I came over here to read more of your stuff. You?
So yes, now you have (hopefully) survived an abridged version of the tangents of a classic leaf, congratulations :). *bows to Raven-san* Once again, your words never cease to amaze me.
Maybe all? Or some unknown and unnamed thing yet to be discovered.
Your parents must be wonderful beings.
I have had more time than anyone I know to figure our who I am.
Oh, I don't know what to say, or how to say it. You will understand anyway :)
If this indeed is the key which I have sitting quietly in my pocket, touching it lightly with a tentative finger, then it was not stumbled upon, but handed to me by... who? The midnight blue sky? My mother and father? Some messenger of a chickadee?
And as a result of this self-naming, you know who you are more than most people that I know. :)
I, by the way, sign off my every journal entry with the name which you gave me: the Story Weaver.
That is good advice, I will take it to heart heartily :) Maybe that's the solutution, to dance away the gray at every opportunity. Ah, wisest of friends, perhaps you have stumbled upon one of the, if not the key/s to the universe.
I wrote in my journal yesterday that the words are buried deep within my heart. And perhaps if I listen hard enough, I can hear them too.
I named myself.
Ah, well, Stargirl; there must always (at least, in this place) be moments that make our hearts ache, that's what gives us depth. I do not know how the world got this way, or exactly how we can change it, but (as the Raven said not too long ago), we can still put on our festive hats and dance away the gray.
You do have the words, dear. Perhaps there are times when you don't have to open your mouth to say them, but I can hear them if I listen properly. :)
I know that poem well, and carry it around in case I ever need it, rather like some spiritual people carry around scripture in their hearts. You sensed so well what I was trying to write, and for that I am glad.
Aaaaaannnnd I still say there's more to a person than just their name.
And the context in which the name has power thing was used on Raven was vindictive and domineering.
Only if you give it to them, and there's much more to every person than their name.
Public school never has been too big on thinking, my mom says. I guess that's why I'm homeschooled.
Nobody seems to understand anymore, no one seems to even want to. The good teachers are worn down by the system, as are the soulful kids, it is the only the power and control hungry people who prevail.
(There is something I want to tell you, do you want to hear it? It concerns dreaming.)
My heart aches. How did the world get this way?
What more can I say, I seem to so rarely have the words. I seem to experience the world differently from most, in so many ways.
If so, how are you feeling today?