"Baby's black and blue."
The distubing absurdity is hurled
From a quietly distorted world,
Where vacuous stares ensue.
Absurd or abstruse?
Daughter or granddaughter?
Covert vipers have caught her
In her mother's pit, morose and recluse.
"You need your mother's attention",
Vibrates through the verbotem venom
In her own wound's festering plenum,
To the one suffering from her abstraction.
"Baby's black and blue."
Cryptic cries will be concealed no longer.
Her daughters will be stronger,
And abscond her abyss of bewildered rue.
WOW! Strong stuff, need to come back and reread. Yet again.
ReplyDeleteThanks so much, Blue Rose! :-D
Having a husband die is a pretty traumatic thing and takes a really long time to recover from and rediscover yourself.
Did you ever read The Year of Pleasures? It's a little unrealistic, I think, but a good read anyway.
Thanks for the encouragement, Mary! No I haven't. Who's it by?
ReplyDeleteAgain a very strong poem with a strong rhythm and a tight rhyme scheme that never feels forced or unnatural.
ReplyDeleteThere is an almost sardonic undertone to this poem, perhaps because of the alliterative b's in "Baby's black and blue". It really sets the pace while unsettling the reader. The relentless rhyme scheme then effectively drives this home.
I could go on. This is such a good poem. Love it.
Wow! Thanks Ario! This is such a wonderful compliment, especially since it comes from such a talented poet.
ReplyDelete