Barren

[tiredofvampires]

Mothers -- !

I used to be amongst you,

at the very beginning

when I was ushered in

through the human echo.

Wicked fiends and gracious saints,

I came in and joined you.

 

Mothers -- !

I used to be amongst you,

surrounded by maids,

other mothers on all fours,

masks and gloves,

vapors and herbs,

all animals,

all together now as one animal,

Mother.

 

************

 

“She died in childbirth” --

As they did in huts of clay

and thatch and woven walls,

Arctic ice and out in

fields of rice,

in the crags of mountains,

knees bending over stars and high noon.

Their time has come,

since the time rivers bathed us all,

every last one.

And rivers have lain at the feet

of what Mothers’ bones know.

 

“She died in childbirth” --

Crimson cries splitting the skies,

every sphere shaking with

chains of tears.

Faces drugged in sweat, legs like jaws

shudder silent --

while the stains soak through

all of night and seep into the sun.

 

A flare bursts,

warm wailing is here intact,

coursing veins are plucked

pulsing from the

No-longer-intact:

lacerated, ruptured, hemorrhagic --

 

Her coal eyes turning from scarlet

to grey

to black.

 

Mothers -- !

I once was amongst you, when I was five

and I pulled plastic Suzie doll

from my loins to bathe in

the sink;

when I fed her to

my breast of ribs,

inside a baby nightgown.

 

Mothers -- !

I once was amongst you, when I was fourteen

and joined your tribe in small pink blots.

I rejoiced and

clutched them secretly,

washed them out

in the sink.

 

“Died in Childbirth”.

I draw a finger ‘round

nymphal navel. In the mirror,

a firm and placid arc, I place

my palm upon this

circle. No one will ever

kiss this spot

for what it contains.

I will never stretch here

and pucker through tented garb.

I will never swell with another,

never awaken to your thumping

pangs.

 

My roots will not grow

into that essential braid linking

Our knots, end to end — blue, purple

And strong as a white tide.

We will never exchange The Elements,

You will never breathe through me.

 

And I will never seize those

around my feet

who know well by experience

because now it’s

my turn.

No one will gather ‘round as I

lower myself to the bottom of Ages.

 

I won’t be Spring, nor Summer.

I won’t be gathered into the center

of the Earth,

spread East to West

a voice of peals and rockets,

defying everything,

allowed anything,

howling free as

the wilderness.

I will never be scooped up and told to roll,

I will never have the rough cloth

dabbed against my temples,

throbbing with shrill brain.

I will never look over the hill of my own making,

the bastion you are leaving,

and feel my soul erupt.

 

No, I stay safely closed.

My entrance never to be an exit.

 

Darkness falls upon my prepared bed,

the bed I’ve prepared for you

again and again.

 

My deep and soft chamber

you will never visit

on the way to becoming.

 

No, I will not be one of them,

with battle scars, or marks of distinction,

skin never the same.

I will never be split, I am

safe from your head ready

between my pelves.

 

I will never perish on the sands, in the paddies, on the

dirt or the high bed, nor in a polished room of scrubs.

There will be no drum, no sudden fury for me.

I will never be a million years old

in the span of one day.

 

I will never perish with your breath severed

from mine, and you will never love

on without me

because I gave my life that you

be born.

 

But I’ll perish of your

never finding, never

filling me.

Without sisters and grandmothers,

without forceps and cutting edges,

desperate drips or fingers thrust inside,

people with their hair up

to help me live.

 

I’ll stay back,

untouched and tied.

 

Clean.

Composed.

Barren.

 

Nullipara,

null and void.

Non-gravida, a grievous seed.

“They died in childbirth”, a grave

dug and marked for heroines.

 

I dig a grave inside myself

for unused soil and rain,

the dances that won’t be danced,

the light I won’t bring you to,

the nest that will never be flown.

 

I dig a grave for

my chance to die.

[morgane]

oh, what a lovely poem

[KG]

OMG, TOV.....

Tearing up as I read this.

Are you alright?

KG

[Clementine orange]

Wow, that's powerful

[tiredofvampires]

Thank you, friends...

 

This pain is so terrible...I can't find any words for it. Not in prose, anyway.

[Daddy Bear]

After reading this once, I find it necessary to avert my eyes. Its quiet horror is reminiscent of the visceral pangs evoked by Live's somber "Lightning Crashes" video, which I've always found very hard to watch.

[melrich]

That's extremely good and obviously very personal but I think it's so good that you should submit it for expert feedback, have you ever been to the "Poets Sanctuary" maybe have a look and see if you would be comfortable submitting it.

[tiredofvampires]

The feedback is greatly welcomed here, and appreciated....thank you to both of you for your reflections.

 

I'll have to have a look at that vid, DB...

 

I've never heard of or been to the group you mention, melrich, but I will surely look into it. Your encouragement means a lot to me and it's quite a big boost to think someone else finds it that worthy.

 

There is no truly redeeming compensation, nor comfort, for what I feel I'm losing here...but if "art" is what I'm left with...may that be a last endeavor. Thank you again.

[JadedStar]

ToV, i am very sorry for your pain right now, I don't even know what to say that might adequately convey my sorrow for what you are feeling, but like Melrich i wanted to also say that was very very well written and you definitely have a gift for prose and poetry. I also think you should submit this somewhere for professional feedback. I thought at first you had copied this from someplace else, then I realized it was your own original work.

 

I am very sorry again for what you are going thru.

[tiredofvampires]

^Thank you, Jaded, for your VERY kind words and compliments. They do mean a lot to me.

 

Writing is my channel...but even that only approximates some things.

 

I have weathered many losses and profound griefs, but this feels insurmountable at times. Which is most of the time now, and it's crippling. What I'd give to turn back the clock...to have kissed righter frogs...to have "healed" more, on time...it seems like a dream sometimes. A dream that I won't have my dream, THIS dream. There are no substitutions for this one.

 

I thought for some time about posting in the Grief forum, because that's all I can say about this: it's something dying. It's not fair to the folks on that forum who have lost people in their lives to post there. But I do feel it's an aspect of me dying all the same. Sometimes, I feel it's my very me that's dying; the oldest and first and last part of me. How does a fabric survive when you pull out the warp? Some say there is still hope, and I keep a bedside vigil. But who am I kidding? I hear the death rattle.

 

Each and every post here makes tears stream down my cheeks anew. The care of people who wish me well alongside my feeling of utter solitariness in facing it by myself has me on my knees. I wish I had prayer. But there is nothing here that can be granted anymore, shy of a miracle -- and I mean in practically Biblical proportions -- appearing.

 

This was not in the plan.

 

I've had a few years to put it aside, to temper my growing anxiety, and keep the hope alive. Everyone kept telling me, "There's still time!" and I clung to that for dear life. But I feel I am cupping a dying ember, blowing on it and seeing it fade before my eyes.

 

Nothing is more horrific than being carted to the execution platform, that ride there. Where you know you have a few precious moments still to imagine breathing, to be in this life as you know it. To think, "There are still a few chances still yet here, aren't there?...." But the bell tolls for me.

 

Anyway. Thank you so much again. Sorry to go off here...I should post a thread instead of going on and on here.

[Dagless]

"The greatest grief of all is that of the death of dream and to see a future fade away but when we lose the one thing we dream for the greatest bravery is to dare to dream new ones."

[tiredofvampires]

Thank you, thank you....

 

Do you know the source of that quote, Dags? It's so perfect.

 

*starts bawling again like a baby*

[Dagless]

Lets just say it comes from a man who is daring to dream new dreams himself.

[tiredofvampires]

Well I shall engrave it into my most treasured quote tablet for keeps.

 

He would be quite a man.