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Chesters Daughter
June 13th, 2010, 08:43 AM
My well of resentment
never runs dry
and if not
for my ceaseless drawing,
would overflow,
saturating me.

Hanging myself
on the line to dry
is as feasible
as my filling a jock,
so a jab here
and a barb there
siphons enough
to keep it beneath the brim.

Charcoal colored clouds
forever buffer the rays
of a forlorn sun
and constantly dribble
like a babe cutting teeth.
Never such a thing as drought
in the land of plenty.

The sound of droplets plunking
into stagnant water
is an unwelcome symphony
in an unending concert
that piercing both eardrums
does not quell.

I catch whiffs
of brackish bitterness
and my esophagus
can belly dance
with the best.

If only our closest
not yet nova
could conflagrate
the cumulus cover
and coax the scummy sludge
into her purifying embrace.

Heaves would cease
while drums slowly knit
and my lips could quit
throwing daggers
to rejoin the chorus
that once drowned out
the offensive strains
of that maddening drip.

Star light, star bright,
create for me a land of sand
dotted with my hardy cacti brethren,
where moisture evaporates easily
from grainy ground
and the only sound
is that of my voice
in song.

Show favor and afford me
an arid paradise
where a parched blue sky
shares the shade of acrid eyes
and rotten wells
don't stand a chance.

Gumby
June 16th, 2010, 03:22 PM
This is a pretty dark picture Lisa, the feeling of hopelessness really came through. I think the images in these two stanza's were very good, and helped nail it down for me. The image of a baby drooling while cutting teeth and that belly dancing feeling when you almost puke are strong images.


Charcoal colored clouds
forever buffer the rays
of a forlorn sun
and constantly dribble
like a babe cutting teeth.


I catch whiffs
of brackish bitterness
and my esophagus
can belly dance
with the best.

I liked this image also,


dotted with my hardy cacti brethren,

I have been to that desert and I know exactly what you mean here. :)

vangoghsear
June 16th, 2010, 04:49 PM
Good one CD. Good imagery (I liked the ones already mentioned by gumby). The words seem carefully chosen.

The overall effect is almost like a Psalm from the Bible from about here down:


create for me a land of sand
dotted with my hardy cacti brethren,
where moisture evaporates easily
from grainy ground
and the only sound
is that of my voice
in song.

Show favor and afford me
an arid paradise
where a parched blue sky
shares the shade of acrid eyes
and rotten wells
don't stand a chance

Below is from Psalm 28, note the similar feel to the wording:


1 To you I call, O LORD my Rock;
do not turn a deaf ear to me.
For if you remain silent,
I will be like those who have gone down to the pit. 2 Hear my cry for mercy
as I call to you for help,
as I lift up my hands
toward your Most Holy Place.


It's a good effect for this poem.

SilverMoon
June 16th, 2010, 05:09 PM
Lisa, this poem, of all, hit me right in the gut. Knowing about the plight of anger and then despair, I could easily relate.

I'm fairly sure this was not your intent, consciously, but I got the feeling that you were expressing a kind of Chinese water torture. One of the worst tortures I can imagine. And yours is a tortured poem though beautiful. Some of the most beautiful poems revolve around sadness or pain...but I don't have to tell you that.

rays
of a forlorn sun
and constantly dribble

The sound of droplets plunking

strains
of that maddening drip.


A few of my favorites:

Hanging myself
on the line to dry

A smooth alliteration but more importantly, the use of charcoal to describe clouds.
The medium can create so many varied shadings just as clouds show. Excellent!

Charcoal colored clouds
Your last line. The chiller..

shares the shade of acrid eyes
and rotten wells
don't stand a chance and they don't...

Chesters Daughter
June 19th, 2010, 03:15 AM
Dear Cindy, I am so very pleased those images work for you. Sometimes I get so nervous thinking something I concocted is too over the top, or even worse, just crap. Both the belly dancing and the cacti had me concerned. I'm glad the hopelessness is palpable, all I want is a little peace and so often I find myself overwhelmed. It seems illness has robbed me of my once infinite tolerance. Your empathy is appreciated more than I can relate, love. Thank you so much.


Dear Van, I am honored beyond measure if what I've written reminds you even remotely of anything found in the Bible. The only Psalm I am familiar with is 23, in fact I recite it multiple times daily and I find it works wonders to lull me to sleep after a hard day. Thank you so much for sharing 28 with me (I do see the similarity in the wording, oh joy) and intend to memorize it and add it to the coffer.When it comes down to it, this really is a personal prayer poorly disguised an impassioned plea to the sun, but I'm sure you know Whom I'm really addressing. Your eye is ever keen, doll, these words were chosen very carefully. Thanks so much, you've made my year.


Dear Laurie, You, of all people, I knew would relate and although it saddens me that we share such a thing, it's nice to have a comrade. I love, love, love you. I was thinking more along the lines of a leaky and annoying faucet that never gets fixed, but the Chinese water torture is far more befitting. You've made this piece way more valuable to me with that interpretation. Thank God for that brain of yours. Elated you liked the lines you cited, and love that encouraging "and they don't". You are a dear friend, indeed, many thanks, love.

All my best, now and forever,
Lisa