Tuesday, April 10, 2012

A Poem for Mother


The ripe smell of new birth and old mother coalescing
Her too thin hips and jaundiced skin, Dali beautiful
Screaming for me to write her a poem in scarlet strokes
Using the freshly pooling placenta at the foot of grandmas velvet chair
As inspiration.........its Mother's Day

Plucking adjectives with confused forceps, blinking away tears
Too many modifiers, slapping me for my fool wordiness
Cherub face swollen, sketching too big letters with umbilical stubs
Watching the cigarette butt smolder in the once nourishing mass
Writing of fires set brazenly by children with unhealthy respect

"You are less of a poet than you are a man"

Tis' true

"Now fetch my wine and a breast pump"

No breast feeding

"And hope that your life is short dear boy"

Hallelujah amen

"Be thankful you are not your father's son"


Copyright 2011

16 comments:

  1. your irony can devastating.loved the confused forceps and the umbilical stubs.

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  2. This is perhaps the most radical metaphor I have ever read to describe the birth of poetry... Coming from a dark, self-destructive womb and leaving its love-hate impact on the world.

    One of your most unforgiving, one of your best.

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  3. A perfectly worked metaphor--and far from wordy, far from over worked--the forceps actually had me twitching away---and the cigarette...as an old waitress from the days when people could smoke in restaurants, I've seen many snuffed in an egg--the visual was unnerving. Best part for me was the 'motherly' wisdom itself--and one would not be much of a poet if one wasn't more of a man(or woman.) Excellent piece, Corey.

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  4. This is a dark write of the birth of a poem, but I so relate. There are times I think mine have been written from stillbirth. Love this!

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  5. "You are less of a poet than you are a man"

    I like the dark and ironic take on the birth of the poet...the ending line is sharp too ~

    I love your music specially You Smell of Mexico ~

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  6. Oh, I just love it... so clever...

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  7. Wow, what a Mother's Day poem! Jarring at times, with its use of decidedly graphic and yet vaguely maternal references ('placenta'), your poem uses an armory of technique to produce its intense emotional effect. Bravo!

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  8. The title and the tone in the first two lines really set my mind up for what i thought the poem would be like, but then bang, my preconception shattered and what a poem. Love the way the narrative just moves on, using some unique imagery. This was a treat, always love when I find something truly different. Great job. Thanks

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  9. ouch! weirdo. er, i mean, wowzers, some kinda ouchy metaphor we got goin' on here! sing it sister!

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  10. How very Norman Bates...right down to the last drop of placenta. Viva la

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  11. Is this what one calls a blue poem?:)

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  12. ...I read it three times and am even more confused... :) The comments helped a little... the birth of poetry? I'd love it explained to me... :)

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  13. I'm with Margaret, I'm drawn in but leave wondering...can't wait to hear more!

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  14. Wow, I am in awe of your poem! I kept thinking of Frida's art!
    Your imagery was like a compass!
    Wow, it is amazing, so much from the depths!
    Raw and real...
    loved it!

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