Wednesday, February 17, 2010

I tidy up the spilled frosted sugar


literally walking on eggshells,
I scratch my nails on my palm
patter of your feet stops my panic
my ragged breath rights itself
I tidy up the spilled frosted sugar
at times I can't fathom
the way fact occurs along with fiction
red welts on my arms tell a tale of decay
when you rub that salve to soothe it
I close my eyes and let you wash over me

21 comments:

The Dark Lord said...

A lovely read... specially liked the way it progressed, and the parallels you drew to engender emotions.

ThomG said...

I think you're too hard on yourself. I like this for the progression and the view it gives me in the mind.

Sepiru Chris said...

virtual images fly across neurons, splattering on the walls of thought, mocking Plato, maybe, but allowing me to commend you, a fascinatingly surreal writer.

Gautami, you conjure fantastic images for me with many of your poems--and you conjure them in fascinating ways.

Thanks, again.

Angel said...

Beautifully done.

Daily Panic said...

glad you wrote this. the first line "literally walking on eggshells" set the whole mood for this. I felt the tension and the release.

Andy Sewina said...

I Love the way you combine the eternal with the mundane, and leave the reader with a satisfied feeling in the last line.

<3

Stan Ski said...

I'm trying to imagine what may have happened prior to the returning(?) footsteps.

bearlyaudible said...

Heartfelt, good to read. I like the sure and steady response within the poem to urgent need (that real daily stuff), yes, how it rights itself! Well said. Tender too. Impressively done (don't like that word, too impersonal, like the poem is - very personal in tone and delivery). Thank you.

Dee Martin said...

I could feel the itchy twitchy need to move, something coming, something right now!

Lorraine said...

Just as long as it's real sugar, you know the chemical sugar, will make you break out in all kinds of unpleasant things...disgusting comment apart, I love how you write!

Crystal Phares said...

Very nice. Thank you.

Francis Scudellari said...

I like how this fluctuates between the panic and the calm, with some very nice touches of detail.

Raven's Wing Poetry said...

I read this and wonder where the welts on the speaker's arms come from. I tend to either wear my scars on the inside or make my words wear them.

Wonderful use of the words this week.

-Nicole

Percy Bisque Silley said...

What are you doing walking around with "frosted sugar?" Do you manage a Dunkin Donuts over there in the Bronx?

Raven's Wing/Nicole: Interesting to me that you "wear your welts" whereas I "use my welts for kleenex."

I wonder what other usages Readers put their welts to?

flaubert said...

Very nicely done! There is a some great imagery here.

Linda Jacobs said...

I love the last line! And the way you place the reader right in the scene.

mia said...

very powerful. emotions from
the edge and back again, read
naturally, how we feel without
thought.

Tumblewords: said...

well said!

Julie Jordan Scott said...

The red welts literally brought tears to my eyes. I am grateful for the emotions this brought up in me but ouch, ouch...

Jay Thurston said...

I never have seen or heard "ragged" used in relation to breaths and breathing. Interesting and unique use of that word in particular. Nice work.

RBroeker said...

The last two lines show secrets to open-minded readers. Tough poetry - and I like that.

Best wishes
Ralf