And now, something different is padding its soft feet across my Persian rugs to take its place on centre stage. A poem. A beautiful and disturbing poem that twists and turns.
These Cold Bones is written by our very first Femme Fatale in the 2012 showcase, Anna Harris. With these deft and chilling words Anna proves her versatility as author and poet. Please enjoy...
THESE COLD BONES
wearing skinless bones
the very ones
with which I hugged you
- the ones that stifled moans
Cosseted you,
pronounced you mine
when I was warm
and when I warmed you, too
- when we were fine
I used to radiate
some said, with love of life
a life of love
the love of you
- the perfect wife
Arsenic, a slab of marble
and cold hard clay
divides our bond
six feet apart
- by night, by day
Me down, you up
too far to touch
each alone
in solitary chill
- no fleshy warmth to clutch
Your poison seeped
in through my mouth, my skin
my blood, this casket
and now it feeds the earth
- that I’m encased within
You’re frozen to your spineless soul
a foreign chill to mine; worlds apart
But I’ll feast, take my revenge
when you take sleep
- my succour, your sucking callous heart
____________________________________
what can you say about such chilling sentiments wrapped into so few words? from start to finish, you know where it's going and it still chills when you get there!
ReplyDeleteBrilliant, Anna, truly brilliant.
This was literature. Romantic and tragic. Shadows of the great man himself Edgar Allan Poe. I truly enjoyed this.
ReplyDeleteThank you for sharing
Marietta miles
Oh Anna,
ReplyDeleteFrom the title, from the title . . . These Cold Bones began to shake and warn me . . . that their essential voice was speaking. And HOW you let them rattle on, so telling, so sensating with life and death and bashing those borderlines with greater truths. God, I love to read your wriiting once to thrice before taking a scribe's stab at a responsorial. You don't jab at minds, you touch 'em and they turn as nature bids, to follow.
One of the best last-liners I've had the feast to read in awhile, from the story of your prose'poem:
- my succour, your sucking callous heart
Brava! Weird -- Just as I wrote this -- radio program doing indie songs spit me out the lyrics: "I remember you - if we were going down in history, I guess we changed our minds -- I remember you -- you're all broken bones now -- I remember you - you showed me how to kiss - I let you use my hat cause I knew you wouldn't miss - I remember you -- you told the stories of your dead scars"... no such thing as a channeled coincidence eh?
~ Absolutely*Kate ... wanting to find/follow dance'around in your writings where they wellspring
LILY!
ReplyDeleteAnna's cover is so eerie-wonderful Noir. The stuff of a knowing broad in the shadows past life itself. It deserves to be a bookcover. (Damn, but you're getting rather deft and clever in creation*zone, aren't you?)
~ smilin'
~Bohemian Kate
So much said in so few words. Beautifully written, well done.
ReplyDeleteYour poetry, like your prose, is always deftly crafted and a joy to read. Loving the artwork too.
ReplyDeleteThank you sincerely, Antonia, Marietta, Ab-fab Kate, Susan and AJ. I do appreciate your overly kind words. Love the piccie, too, Lily. It's added a definite touch of quality to this little poem.
ReplyDelete