Bloodletting, Memory

30 Aug

I bleed the City.

With shards of rejection in my veins

The fury, the heartbreak, the

Slamming of gates.

A human wall, of

Purified hands, closing in, shutting out,

Spewing fumes of vile smugness.

 

I bleed the City.

The cradle, the earth,

Glass bowls that

Rock babies, among gravel and green.

Passed around communal arms, eyes taped

With certainty, stunted by fawning,

Inspecting sodden roots,

While new leaves are snipped off

For daring to be fresh.

 

I bleed the City.

The fabric I carry, the honks in my

Head; the corners of childhood, neon signs that scream

No, the stripping of self, divesting of entity.

Hurled into a morass of the unknown and

Unknowing, the joy and the light frame my

Dark core, the bounty that decorates

Crumbled pieces of

Heart.

 

I bleed the City.

I bleed the City.

Through lumps in the throat and knots in the spirit

May my ministrations redeem me.

 

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9 Responses to “Bloodletting, Memory”

  1. rajni August 31, 2011 at 10:01 pm #

    It kind of gets into your soul ,doesn’t it?However much we crib while we’re here, go away for a few days even & I miss it like hell:)

  2. sukanyabora September 1, 2011 at 6:40 am #

    S.I.G.H!

  3. dipali September 3, 2011 at 6:24 am #

    It cannot be done, and yet it must be:(
    Heartbreaking.

  4. Cocktail party September 6, 2011 at 7:23 am #

    This is really deeeeep! 🙂

  5. myglassroom September 7, 2011 at 1:10 am #

    Read it five times…..need I say more?
    M

  6. Orange Jammies September 7, 2011 at 10:19 pm #

    rajni: 🙂

    sukanyabora: Sigh is right.

    dipali: 😦 There, there.

    Cocktail party: Yeah, and then I meet folks in the offline world and they’re appalled that I giggle and chatter about *gasp* shoes.

    myglassroom: No, M-kins. Sending a big hug your way. Give me news of Princess A.

  7. Aunty G. October 20, 2011 at 3:09 am #

    Your poetry, to me, is always loft
    Consider me a plain, old softy
    Blood and gore
    I do not adore
    But i reckon you miss your city enough to be crotchety!

  8. Aunty G. October 20, 2011 at 3:11 am #

    Your poetry, to me, is always lofty
    Consider me a plain, old softy
    Blood and gore
    I do not adore
    But i reckon you miss your city enough to be crotchety!

  9. Orange Jammies December 6, 2011 at 9:00 pm #

    Aunty G: You’re my favorite softy, aunt I never had,
    Your presence makes me oh-so-glad,
    Do my words take a toll
    On your gentle soul
    Forgive me, I’m unintentionally bad.

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