Mel, this poem broke my heart and pieced it back together all at once. I don't know why this poem came about but I can piece enough of it together to make it make sense from our conversations and oh my heart. This is really quite beautiful. Your imagery is always so amazing, but something about this that your poetry doesn't typically have is the gut-punch emotion. You always have emotional pieces, but it's softer and stronger at the same time. This was hopeless but full of hope, it was heartwrenching but filled with joy, and it was this gentle plea for understanding that just made me so overwhelmed. This is one of my favorite pieces from you. Stripped down but still guarded. This is really beautiful.
If this poetry is what comes from being under the weather then forgive me for wishing storms for your future.
My perception is that it is about the person who raised you, mom, dad or grandparent. The "full belly" and "colic-filled nights" point the way.
I'm taken aback by the scrubing of the roots of your birth; your phrasing is so "on point" yet unexpected that it blows me away.
I feel this reconciliation may not have been made yet, like it's what you wanted to express but it's too late or that it's a trial balloon. I hope the message is delivered.
I always like to take my time reading your poetry because..you do not post enough and, when you do well I don't always get all of it (as you know) but I do love 'trying'...
Our home is decadent in
Wood bows beneath the white ants and
reminds us why we will never leave here.
I guess you live in an older type house...weatherboard perhaps? Never knew you had a problem with white ants there but, I can definitely relate..I think you were using this house however to set the scene for you feelings...it was a metaphor for them perhaps?
In summer we fan ourselves, tumble ice
cubes between our teeth and
count the days until Christmas.
I do all that too...so again, it's very relatable
In winter we toast our hot water bottles and
pray to God in stain glass windows.
stain glass window has thrown me a bit...I know older colonial style housing has stain glass window but...I feel there is more to this than I'm reading right now...
I admit I don't write about you enough,
haven't thanked you enough for the full belly,
or puff the magic dragon and colic-filled-nights.
This has got to refer to your mother...most mothers would see that their child had a full belly and would walk the floor with a sick child
I apologise for trying to scrub
the roots of my birth
from my skin,
Not sure about this...perhaps you have a distorted view as a child that you are now coming to terms with as an adult.
they were radiating warmth
I never realised I was leaving.
You weren't the one I was leaving.
Yip..as usual, your poem made me thing or..over think maybe haha!!
Absolutely stunning, a beautiful intertwining of confession and a glimmer of hope. The verses
"I apologise for trying to scrub
the roots of my birth
from my skin, "
Hit me the hardest, the sheer imagery and emotion that it invokes is just ... at a real loss for words. Exceptional write
10 months ago
This is a very relatable write, i like how you've formatted this piece..it really controls the reader and makes them absorb every word. Epic