Poetry / Lullabye
Lullaby
My mother would chime lullabies
in luminous voice surges—
Where the myrrh of an eternity of sycamores,
swayed musically with marigolds and tendril
aloft a cerulean hush of dawn.
This was her hymn—
(As extraordinary as too young
Should have been.)
Some time later, she would tipple chalice
to pass the time of watching wisteria
grow in our back yard.
Until her taste was never clever enough,
her lips never purple enough.
The jolt having aborted to something less than weak.
Too fragile to wind the thoughts of her abuse.
She thought it was medicated.
And as her compulsion ripened with the rosemary,
so did our own.
Just as she adulterated into utter loss of herself,
her motherhood,
We too forgot the lyrics.
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amazing imagery and rhythm. i especially loved the rhythm—and the use of the softer consonants and the alliteration softened it even more. very songlike, very musical. i was drawn in.
the subdued rhythm and voice seemed to lend a sense of hopeless inevitability to the conclusion.
your vocabulary also obviously exceeds mine, as i had to grab a dictionary and all.
i did trip up on two parts though. i couldn’t get over the “never clever”... the rhyme (unintentional?) just seems out of place to me. and the last sentence of the piece, i couldn’t ease through the grammar—the grammar here seemed at odds with the tone of the poem in this sense haha.
again amazing work. am a fan now.
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