navwin » Archives » Open Poetry #38 » Atrophy
Open Poetry #38
Post A Reply Post New Topic Atrophy Go to Previous / Newer Topic Back to Topic List Go to Next / Older Topic
Honeybee
Member Ascendant
since 1999-12-26
Posts 5372
Ontario, CANADA

0 posted 2006-05-29 08:52 PM



Atrophy


Frail is the night of frigid shadows
and hardened memory walls
closing in on skin, fragile moist
obscuring mocking stars.
They laugh.
They’ve always laughed,
but I cannot.

Dormant is the artist
no beauty strokes of brush.
Prominent is the winter –
a portrait of death.
The artist's hand is stilled
or is it killed
by a spring, resurrected not?

I cannot scream
and bleed upon the page to vent my rage
of a past that haunts the now,
for, it's contained, remains mundane
to still the vulnerability;
And no inspectors or sanctions have come forth
to save me from my secrets –
my personal weapon of mass destruction.
I suppress this mess, let it pick at my bones
and confess to no one.
I keep the masks hidden and powder the cracks
and realize that even the best swimmers can too drown.

I am a woman who won't step on an ant
all the while allowing feet to tread on me
and I detest that part of self,
though applaud a job well done on my mother's hand
from the way I watched my father desecrate her worth
and how she taught me to be a man's misery.

I am cloaked of childhood lost
and remember when my face was liquid smooth innocence
serene scar smiles woven in pigtail pretend
so Grandma wouldn't worry.

I wish I had a zipper
so I could unzip and step out of self.
Then I would be free...of me,
at least for a little while
only to return
to this leper life once more.
It is here that I rot,
a blot on society
my fate mapped out by generations.

I am standstill, numb
flawed like so many others before
awed by the image of rainbows
paying the cost of foolish hope, mindless cope;
That it only takes a moment to fall from grace
while reaching for the sun -
fingertips licked, burn the sorrow
that stroke like a razor on acid tears.

I'm too young to feel this damn old.
There is no miracle, no second chance
no reason to exist;
I am agony, atrophy
and wear the want of death as second skin.

Melissa Long-Monette




Intellectually I know that Canada is no better than any other country. Emotionally I KNOW that Canada is the best country in the world!

© Copyright 2006 Melissa P. Long-Monette - All Rights Reserved
Nightshade
Deputy Moderator 5 ToursDeputy Moderator 1 TourDeputy Moderator 1 TourDeputy Moderator 1 Tour
Member Patricius
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962
just out of reach
1 posted 2006-05-29 09:37 PM


Oh, Melissa, this aches.
You are already perfect in someone's eyes, and He is always with you.
I think you're pretty neat too.
Be well. hugs, Chris

Poetry is an echo, asking a shadow to dance.
~Carl Sandburg

shirtless
Member
since 2006-04-29
Posts 359

2 posted 2006-05-29 10:06 PM


It may surprise you, Melissa, but I see hope in this poem.

Although the artist is dormant, winter is described with an artistic term -- PORTRAIT.

And even if the best swimmers "can to drown," you don't say that they do drown.

And a woman who "won't step on an ant" is showing compassion in a world that lacks it.

And the "pigtail pretend" that protects a grandmother is another demonstration of compassion.  By the way you have a knack for short alliteration.  Here, "pigtail pretend" is childish in tone and cleverly establishes the approximate age of the child.


And there is hope where there is wishing: "I wish I had a zipper."

The speaker in this poem chains herself to the past and this is the cause of the atrophy. Perhaps the solution is to let the past atrophy and let the present build on the   speaker's artistry and compassion.

This is another powerfully emotional write. Thanks Melissa.

http://anthonyarmstrong.zoomshare.com

playing.with.crayons
Member
since 2006-01-02
Posts 362
Neverland
3 posted 2006-07-13 02:41 AM


"I am cloaked of childhood lost
and remember when my face was liquid smooth innocence
serene scar smiles woven in pigtail pretend
so Grandma wouldn't worry."

Oh my. Melissa you have never once written a poem that I haven't gone "wow" to in my head. I searched your name just to read more of you. much much much enjoyed xx

divine chaos
Senior Member
since 2006-07-09
Posts 617
dancing 'neath the moon
4 posted 2006-07-13 07:19 AM


this is so heartbreaking and powerful
absolutely awesome read
I love the way you weave

Thank you for sharing
~*Sheli*~

By words the mind is winged
~Aristophanes~

serenity blaze
Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738

5 posted 2006-07-13 07:25 AM


What can I say?

Each verse evokes memories of another and yet...it is as if you wrote them better!

this:

"I cannot scream
and bleed upon the page to vent my rage"

smile

sure y'can

y'just did.

It's not often I say this to another woman, but I would love to see you, unleashed and realized.



echotranslation
New Member
since 2006-07-12
Posts 3
California, US
6 posted 2006-07-13 11:30 PM


Very beautiful... it seems you think and breathe in poetry.

-echo

ambivalence
Junior Member
since 2006-07-13
Posts 15
Canada
7 posted 2006-07-14 02:25 AM


Amazingly powerful and dripping with emotion. The troubles you've faced have in the very least fed your talent of poetic expression, I hope this work of beauty helped you feel less inundated. It's really sublime.
Post A Reply Post New Topic ⇧ top of page ⇧ Go to Previous / Newer Topic Back to Topic List Go to Next / Older Topic
All times are ET (US). All dates are in Year-Month-Day format.
navwin » Archives » Open Poetry #38 » Atrophy

Passions in Poetry | pipTalk Home Page | Main Poetry Forums | 100 Best Poems

How to Join | Member's Area / Help | Private Library | Search | Contact Us | Login
Discussion | Tech Talk | Archives | Sanctuary