Her sentences where rivers once,
meandering through marshlands,
building into lakes and
rushing rapids,
heading for the sea.
“Why was I never told, that mother’s dead?”
She’s angry once again, her words
are trapped
in bogs
in stagnant waters
backwards flowing, in the moon-pulled tide.
“She died when I was twenty one,
I held your hand…
back then.”
I take her hand again, recalling
how she handled chainsaws once.
Now her hand’s a nestling,
trembling
spilling coffee.
“Why was I never told?”, we’re trapped
in mud.
Dust on my fingers.
Slow Swirl at the Edge of the Sea by Mark Rothko
Claudia is guest hosting at dVerse poetics today… focusing on my own emotions… Beware of generalization and and join us all when the pub opens at 3PM EST.
—
November 24, 2015
The pain in this is palpable! Very well written!
Damn, dude. I think this may be my favorite of all your poems I’ve read so far. Outstanding work.
This so touches my heart, knowing of your mother’s dementia. It mirrors my feelings about my own mother and her dementia but couldn’t quite express. It deeply touched me and brought tears.
This is so sad. My father had dementia so I can empathize with your distress.
Truely exquisite Bjorn. Mum has dementia, your words touched my heart – thank you.
oh heck – that is very björn – and the emotions palpable.. it is tough to see them like that… love the images you use and also the use of direct speech – makes it all the more real
This really gives a vivid picture of what it is like, Bjorn! Seems painfully accurate.
Sadness portrayed so vividly. The image of trapped water that once flowed smoothly is excellently drawn. Love it.
Powerful, personal, touching yet still abstract, rife with metaphor; an excellent piece, brother; one of your best.
I love the use of hands, the conversation between the mother and her child ~ The loss of memories is truly sad indeed ~ The understated emotions pulled me in Bjorn ~
Bjorn, I really liked the way you seemed to break with your own style and attempted something radically different. I liked the progression of what was being said as cause for the effect of your images. Smiles…>KB
This is simply exquisite: a clear, single image, a focus on just one example of forgetfulness, and those lines about the hands which once handled chainsaws… perfect! Tenderness and sadness and helplessness all come through.
The metaphor of the water brings us right in there with you. So lovely and sad.
I love your use of dialog in this poem. It draws the reader right into the situation.
Moved me to tears.. such a heartfelt pen.
Heartfelt and painful. It touched me.
Excellent metaphor! I especially like your title, opening and close. Well done.
The emotion is brilliantly evoked in this poem – feelings that come to us all one way or another.
I love the earthly, watery feel this has. The coffee and chainsaw stand out to me as contrasts to the natural theme. Dark coffee, dark mud – backwards flowing anger, the water all trapped. You’re really in a painful place here, aren’t you? Thanks for the read. This was puzzling.
Well written, Bjorn. It brings back memories of my mother.— Suzanne
“Why was I never told, that mother’s dead?” is such a powerful and heartbreaking verse that it could stand by itself.
Oh damn Björn, having watched my late mother-in-law’s decline I know how much this hurts.
this is so real and raw!
That 2nd stanza hit hard. Though for me the question was why didn’t anyone tell me mother was dying before it was too late. Great imagery in this.
This is intense and has made a deep impression; will take time to forget!
you never cease to come up with something fresh and brilliant – loved this poem and the juxtaposing of contradictory images – nothing better to illustrate emotions
An powerfully drawn metaphor … I feel a sense of distracted bewilderment which – along with the intense contrasts – heighten the feeling of being stuck or trapped.
Wow. I really really like the “trembling/spilling coffee” slaps you right into such an emotionally driven poem. Nice.
-Amy