Repeating the mother’s words


*Image found HERE

Repeating the mother’s words

What lies within the dirty white threads
in the negligee of madam November?
Her dry ribs in shards
jut out over the monotone wasteland
with a gaping mouth;
the grayness and foul air
stick their fangs in the clouds, lined like crepes.
There is us, a monolith of snow,
a mantra of tusks,
a plow against the sterile, dead dirt.
There is our bodies,
like mountains of sorrow,
steamed orange dots over the dirty windows.
there is our hands versus the noose of her stockings,
nightshades in our scapula
conspire daylight, dream heavily.
What lies there in the hole of her palm,
but an ingenue’s monologue
of shredded doves,
of sleep, thread into our skins
like madness, circuits, choices.
Do I dare set fire in her irreplaceables,
do I dare untie her hair
and teach coyotes to howl for sunlight,
should we like vandals
defibrillate the flowers,
processing low and quiet,
never tasted, never given,
what lies there in the madam’s bedroom drawer,
in handkerchiefs and woven linens –
our guts, marinated in champagne,
our fingers
divorced from one another,
our hearts shivering and soft as bread;
a thousand vacant fields
scurrying in the noise of rabbits,
trees lost in chatter and chanting,
skies like milk and caramel,
love like a tame sipping of a tea, whispers,
river alive beneath a layer of frost,
jealousy lies there
and wants a mistress,
in scarlet, a garland of wisteria
atop her head, crooked like a broken fetish,
warm like the blood of an elk
despite what any lips or calendars might say,
lacerated, craving, young and unbuttoned –

We stand like necroscopes
beneath the matron,
pale and broken, stitched
like woodlands full of pines
against the fences of the suburbs,
disturbed and pickled, forever wanting,
forever chared with thirst;
we stand beneath to translate
what is hurt

and how to have a share;
repeating the mother’s words.

*Inspired by Wordle at Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie

~ by Oloriel on November 14, 2016.

9 Responses to “Repeating the mother’s words”

  1. I have never before thought about the similarities between November and Miss Havisham … but this is just brilliant describing her in her fading dresses and in the horror of her madness… exactly like this November feels.

    • Yes, I don’t think November ever felt like this. But then I look outside through my writing window, and I can see it: I can see some scenes and emotions and characters reflected that I know from novels.
      Strange times indeed, but I believe we will overcome!

  2. This is perfect for November, Oloriel! TY, for writing and posting it!

  3. “in the negligee of madam November?”
    “steamed orange dots over the dirty windows”
    “the noose of her stockings”
    “conspire daylight, dream heavily”
    “What lies there in the hole of her palm,
    but an ingenue’s monologue
    of shredded doves”
    “do I dare untie her hair
    and teach coyotes to howl for sunlight” … Yes! Please do!!! 🙂
    “our guts, marinated in champagne,
    our fingers
    divorced from one another”
    “in scarlet, a garland of wisteria
    atop her head, crooked like a broken fetish”

    It must take you ages to write like this, but I sure wish I could read a poem like this every morning. You are a masterful poet. I really can’t convey how exceptionally pleasurable your poetry is to read, but you know. You know. That’s why you’re here, in a dark closet, hiding out. Your power scares you; you know what you are, how good you are … and people will feed off of you, drain you of your essence, if you let them have access for too long. This is how you keep yourself; you cave, in.

  4. Somewhat disturbing picture, at least for me, reading it, I am imagining a women in almost nothing, bloody, scarred with piles of meat at her feet, are they alive, are they human…her hair is dark, tangled and dropping to cover parts of her body…
    Don’t know why, its just what I see…

    • Yep, it is pretty dark and influenced by a dark literary character that just reminds me of people around me, they tend to have the same vibe 🙂

Tell me something

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

The Inner Wilderness

Plato had amazing insight into the question of finding the unknown. "How will you go about finding that thing the nature of which is totally unknown to you?" he wondered. The deep inner space within yourself, the inner wilderness within you asks for you to explore it, and in the process discover yourself. What better way to do that than through writing? This space is a personal blog for your reading, and my writing adventure. Go through the blog that follows to, perhaps, discover something as well.

songs for now

nrk 💜 they write things 


Everyone is welcome


"Ja - to je neko drugi."

Poems by Mandy

Sad Poetry by Mandy Williams...

International Journal of Research (IJR)

IJR Journal is Multidisciplinary, high impact and indexed journal for research publication. IJR is a monthly journal for research publication.


mapping the nest

Goose FM

Little pieces on the weird, Music, the great outdoors, and TV. Known as Lucy Wallis in some circles, and Goose in others.

Amethyst Review

New Writing Engaging with the Sacred

Anatolios Magazine

[ love letters to the light ]

Countdown To Classic

A World of Warcraft: Classic Podcast & Community

Chain of Arts

Travel. Art. Music.

The Wedding of Ken and Sarah

Coming to you August 17th, 2019 via the Wonders of the Internet!

Robert Hilles

Poet and Novelist

Bruised Rose Blossoms

Poet. Starscraper. Song whisperer. Niño de las estrellas.

Pointless Overthinking

Understanding ourselves and the world we live in.



%d bloggers like this: