I remind myself often, bent on bruised knees,
that only the ripe and sweet fruit is ever taken
from the branch; I have been rotten since nine.
.
I tear apart my clothes, pour dust over my head.
I watched as your flesh was torn apart by gnashing
teeth, only to be thrown, wastefully, into the dirt.
.
I convict the sins of my father's Father; a mother
is not acquitted for wringing her babe's neck. She
is not absolved for taking life which she freely gave.
.
I cry out into the void. If there is paradise where I
cannot reach, will you notice my absence? Will
it hurt? Can paradise exist without our reunion?
.
I lift my hands, grasp at still air. Memory is stained
glass. I worship your absence against all that you
taught me; to a false god, grief has made me disciple.
.
I speak, naked, at the pulpit, to a hundred pairs of
unseeing eyes. This is our communion, these words
are my prayer. It goes unanswered all the same.
.
I will condemn myself to sin and partake in the
fruit, if it promises the wisdom to discern evil,
and to discern who I am without you.
Points:
Time spent:
IP address:
Canary word: Present
Possible AI signals:
Original Text:
Are you sure you want to delete this comment? This cannot be undone.
Mark this comment as a review? Points will be awarded to the poster.
Your comment was posted, but it wasn’t long enough to count as a review. Reviews need about four complete sentences (at least 250 characters). Try writing another review that explains your thoughts in more detail — the author will appreciate it, and you’ll earn points for it.
137,429 Literary Works • 672,015 Reviews
Oh what an evocative poem. I find the word choices very poignant and visceral… even if I am not entirely sure about the true meaning.
I just found myself becoming sad when reading: “I have been rotten since nine”
As in that the narrator doesn’t see worth in themselves, even from such a young age. But then we head into the second stanza where those that appear “worthy” are just as discarded without a second thought. They’ve maybe been chosen from the tree but that doesn’t guarantee success or even a good life.
I do like the line of “She // is not absolved for taking life which she freely gave.” I don’t think a birth is free, in fact, a whole pregnancy is a huge strain, a commendable thing even. But I like the provocative language used here.
“I worship your absence against all that you // taught me“ This too makes me so curious, just what this could mean. What absence… I find it very fascinating!
Hmmm I like how the final stanza brings up the apple. It contrasts and reflects on the image in the first stanza. And I especially like the agency the narrator takes with choosing this. Love the final line!
maybe 2026 is the year of poetry for you?
hardly, this is the only poem I have ever written that I liked, so I just made it 7 stanzas instead of 5 to go along with the religious imagery
This poem is CHEF'S KISS! It is truly amazing how you used such heavy, ancient sounding words like pulpit and communion to talk about such intense grief. The way you described being rotten since nine is SCRUMPTIOUS (yummy :3) writing because it makes the reader feel exactly how much that pain has stuck with you for so long and how it changed everything.It is extremely amazing how you showed the memory is stained glass because it’s a straight up beautiful way to say that looking back can be colorful but also sharp and broken at the same time. The part about being a disciple to a false god of grief is delicious and feels so raw and honest. It is truly awesome how you’re willing to partake in the fruit just to figure out who you are now that they’re gone. The way you talk about a mother wringing a babe's neck is so dark but magnificent because it shows that some things can't ever be forgiven. It is outstanding how the poem ends on the idea of wisdom even if it comes from something sinful even if life can get totally crazy!
thank you for your review!