mon chèriette.

The death
of cellophane air
fuchsia flowers by the Pigalle,
ocean pale, in this dream;
Camellia’s perfume, her tree bones
close to death
are twigs in the mistral wind,
the quiet 
my mother taught me
as I learned or tried 
to learn half the Hebrew alphabet for her.

I tell you, I was a child then,
mon chèriette
a baby in her bones,
with a quart of the Conassauga river
in her hands;

blackbirds now fall by the sandalwood 
sunsets, and I die in the chords
at four AM; the honeysuckle ripened
from my window and I look towards my son—
my black cat
he sleeps as the lotus petals fall;

there is no death
in the buried tree,
as demitasse ghosts lie
following mental nuclear winters
barefoot 
in the tongued darkness,
how it leaves me, it leaves me;

desert mouths,
sun blush; dark and veering
the birches, like an exquisite 
battered perfume, blood rubies
part their lips; some prophet
can carry me 
to the apple limbs
and soon abandon me to shore.
But there is no prophet I grasp, no, not for me.


Through the smokestacks
there is the death of me
as I pass the hills. 
I see the little girl in the glass; 
her pale epidermis. Undress me,
and the wounds,
steal her womb too 
into the autumn death,
lest these hills assombrir
and bruise;

fingers of rock,
weeping blood and grapes,
wines to the illumine baby’s breath
before we all die,
leave me, that’s all I ask of you,
please leave me.

09/20/2020

© 2020 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved.

Heavily, HEAVILY inspired by Sibylle Baier’s I Lost Something in the Hills.



Categories: Poetry, Prose

Tags: , , , , , , , , , ,

14 replies

  1. Reblogged this on johncoyote and commented:

    Amazing poetry shared by a talented writer.

    Like

  2. Thank you for sharing your amazing poetry. Hello from Michigan.

    Like

  3. Great poetry! With the added benefit it caused me to put on Patti LaBelle and turned my frown upside down. Thank you

    Like

  4. This is exquisite, Lucy. Just sublime. Thanks for sharing.

    Like

  5. This is Murcury/Jim Ogle, hailing from the Parklandship, non mari on and adieu. Love please carry us through to believe.

    Like

  6. This is mesmerising, Lucy! Always glad to see you back 😊

    Like

  7. You have once again created something more than language – an experience through written word, full of exquisite imagery, deep feelings, and haunting metaphor. Beautiful, Lucy. ❤️

    Like

  8. This is beautiful, Lucy. I missed reading you. I’m glad you posted ❤

    Like

  9. Lucy has returned yet again with another poem to stun us all 💖

    Like

  10. Hello from Nigeria, upon embers of mystery you sail, there I love to go.

    Like

  11. What a mindblowing poem! Word by word, my mind opens up into new vistas of meaning, and pain flows like blood from the dark beauty of your lines! Absolutely loved reading this!

    Like

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