Roll my shoulders,
crackle spine of dry flesh
smoked fractures and boiler hiss,
hiccup of breath in a radiator.
Airless and unloved,
in the dank basement of the mind
snow cannot refract any light
into these shadows.
Still it aches on the backs,
eyeballs tight against their sockets
straining past the crisp,
no bounce in the world outside.
Imagine melting into dust,
slithers of self pooling at the foot
of all this make believe.
As endless as this frozen season.
“Airless and unloved, in the dank basement of the mind” L. Igloria ~ A Reparation
Carol, I always feel a bit excited when I see your name on Mr Linky, and this is great. I guess technically you should have acknowledged the poet whose line you borrowed.
I like your use of sound in this poem – lots of hisses and crackles – and it’s very atmospheric. It feels trapped and dark – lockdown leaking in?
I’ve added a line at the end – last night was, well not great let’s say. Lockdown is certainly leaking in with delays on house renovations, discovering my driving licence expired a week ago and it won’t allow me to renew online so a trip to the post office is required, and falling outs with the gas and electric company over which way round the day and night rates should be. It was a bit of an exhausting day.
My goodness this is good! 💝 You took the line by Igloria and made it your own. Especially love; “Imagine melting into dust, slithers of self pooling at the foot of all this make believe.” 🙂
This just rolls off the tongue reading… and I can really feel the frustration of season and limitations that we are burdened with.
Thank you Bjorn. The frustrations are coming thick and fast this month it feels like. Quite looking forward to Spring where I can at least get into the garden without snow and ice threatening to send me tipping into our pond.
Beautiful. I can really hear the first few lines. ❤
Thank you Lucy.
That third stanza is so powerful.
I do think, since you used the line of Igloria word for word, that you must add a line at the end of your poem giving her credit. It’s more than borrowing the line, it’s quoting it word for word. You could simply add a note at the end of your poem.
I’ve added the note Lillian. I did mean to last night before posting but to be honest I’d reached the point where I just wanted to crawl into bed and cry.
“Imagine melting into dust, slithers of self pooling at the foot of all this make believe.” Damn that is haunting line the be on my mind as I make my way to bed. I feel this.
It kept me up for a while as well.
‘This frozen season’ certainly does seem endless, and the season is a time of depression and desperation – that comes through very much in the reading here.
January as a month has just been a month of extremes really. We’ve had some fantastic joy, and then a series of small household annoyances that were just starting to get on top of me a bit yesterday.
👏 👏 👏 👏 👏
Thank you David.
I’m so pleased to see you back, Carol! I enjoyed the sensual detail of this poem and felt that roll of the shoulders. I love the sounds, the ‘boiler hiss’ and ‘hiccup of breath in a radiator’, and the phrase ‘no bounce in the world outside’ which describes the current situation perfectly. The final stanza is superb.
This poem resonates … deeply, down to the core. Brava.
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