Published May 25, 2010
I glance across the room.
I am in your bed.
I am heavy.
I am dead.
You cradle child in your arms,
Like it is glass.
You can’t even look at it.
It looks like me.
I am a dead mother.
Too young to wed,
But I was in your bed.
Always, always back to bed.
I was milky white
And you were milky gray.
Old man, daughter
They would say.
I am your lover,
Object, what-have-you,
But I am dead, so you can dread
My baby.
I have a cradle, a new bed.
Hole in the ground,
Because I am dead.
Take my baby.
I ain’t dead.
I got me a head.
It’s got suft tufts
Of baby.
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What the...? Where are people quoting this from? The poem I see is way different!
Good, I'll say, but totally didn't have any of those lines in it.
Thanks for the comments.
I agree with JAsmine Hart on this one. Your rhythm could use a bit of work.
"That is what the policeman sees
As he drives around the cul de sac
Its your lazy parking
A mark of your tired boyhood"
for some reason i love this stanza!
I want to see more poems from you,because you don't rhyme. I love that!
~Lady Kix
Hi,
I like the contrast between "witching hour" and more familiar images like "I poured the lemonade and the vodka".
I'd change "table made of wood" to "wooden table" because it sounds awkward.
I'd also cut obvious statements like "we are together" because clearly if they aren't alone they're together!
I like the use of dialogue and the tone at the end is very effective.
I'd add punctuation; just p.m me if you want any suggestions on this.
Hope this helps,
Jas