05 May 2005

a poem...

That Bed
my mother's bed was my center
a haven from nightmares,
a stage, a chapel, a palace,
a figate bringing me to imagined shores
with sails of cotton
and decks of down

it was my liberation
a platform for debate
battleground, confessional, and penance
a reluctant deliverance
from past ideals
and liquid dreams

that bed was a jumbled storage space
a table for an artist in confinement
knitting, beading, sewing
a cluttered hope
that energy is stronger
than cancer's weight

that bed was a singularity
streching time, pulling us in
a prision, a clinic, a hateful reminder
of an icon fading gracefully
a desperate prayer
through pain to peace
my mother died in that bed

6 comments:

  1. Without even reading it i can already see that it's way better then my poetry will ever be....11



    http://eclecticeleven.blogspot.com

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  2. The transition from childhood memories to present day realities is brilliant.

    Keep writing....

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  3. Hey little flower....
    A victory of good over evil...
    meaning, I love the line,

    "that energy is stronger
    than cancer's weight..."

    Thank you so much for your call today.
    We'll get together when you get back.

    (((((hugs))))))

    ~ kim

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  4. yeah, the hopeless romantic is moved

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  5. When you read this in the RRC a while ago, I got goose bumps. This is really good, yo.

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