Miss Red Jacket
layered
red threaded
protected
found four chances
dug them
out of the sand
distinct
diamonds
four different
slants
similar
polar opposites
yet
parallel
four unique prints
inked
on
black and white
printed
nearly tattoo’d
she chooses a rock
dug out of the dirt
in
needle park
veined purple
swallow’s grandma’s stew
grandma’s eyes
grandpa’s semen
anything
for black tar
fire spoons
and
a blanket in Needle Park
Miss Red Jacket
misses
firm
athletic
blood tubes
that act as an overcoat
laying
over layers
Horse pipes have
wrapped her
soft spot
for
the last of
their life time
he
with blood tubes
plucked
from dirt
in needle park
a diamond
uncleaned
uncut
melting banknotes
wages
melting mud
puddles in
metal necks
skinny little pricks
sucking
mud puddles dry
pushing
pushing destruction
deep
into her
thick red
shield
pushing
pushing red threads
to distress
unthreading
unravelling
leaving
a naked woman
with nothing
but a
dirty
rock
Stunning
The images weave & weave, in & out, up & down…
Good Lord! You have taken up a very large (and heavy) mantle. I applaud you for your willingness to dig deep into the festering wounds our society tries to keep bandaged and covered with make-up. Air it out, and drain the pus, love. You’re rocking it out (and, yes I think a book from you is needed).
You lost me a bit on this one. I’ve read it twice and I’m a bit confused. I’ll come back to it later. It’s not leaping out at me like your poetry usually does. Bits do, but not the whole. I must be tired.
It’s probably the poem…that’s why I have it as a draft. I’ve been sick for a couple days and this one I’m feeling a bit “off” also
Hope you feel better soon, Maggie Mae. Rest is best.
I’ve got to say, I enjoyed it quite a bit until the last line. I only say constructively that the last line is horrendous. You can do better man.
I quite agree….I should not attempt writing when I’m sick. My brain will not latch on to the words and the story….bleh..I’ll fix later! I thank you for your criticism my friend! Very helpful!
Agreed on the last line. Other than that one flaw, I adore this poem! The rhythm, especially at the beginning, just drew me in and wouldn’t let go (much like the subject matter)
Whoa… Spoken better than Neil Young did….
it’s scarey where my mind takes me on this one…
Sunshine award posted 🙂 Thank you again!
Good stuff
Nick
Very nice, interesting format, too.
reading to obsorb and visualize and not to correct…I really liked this.
appreciate…if you have any corrections though…red lines are not rejected. I’m not on my A game….
Ok Thanks.
It’s an interesting one isn’t it… Hmmmm. I personally don’t have an issue with the ending. The “rock” is a solid image, literally and metaphorically… it carries a potentially fatal violence and/or finality that felt appropriate to finish such a narrative of horror and suffering. A rock can cave in a skull after all… Or is that a whole other poem? 😉
😉 you actually got to read the revised edition HollyAnne … I trust your judgement in that the ending is alright now! 🙂
Ah, ok – I got the new version? Cool. These things are often very subjective, but I do like the ending here. 🙂
gritty poetry in a grim vein..I like it
favourite line:
leaving
a naked woman
with nothing
but a
dirty
rock
Quite deep, one has to focus, other wise one will not make head or toe of whats it about.
I like reading your poetry. Connect with @twitter.
Charlie
Not sure whether addiction causes self-loathing, or if self-loathing leads to addiction, but the two usually go hand-in-hand. Thanks for digging deep sharing your poetry.
You poetry is so dark, sounds like an abused person or a needle junky, which is about the same thing. I hope you’ve learned that destroying yourself never gets you anything that you want. I had to learn that the hard way, and almost lost my life in the study. Now, the years go by and I don’t take drugs at all anymore. I haven’t even had a beer in a long time, either. My life goes on in a much healthier vein now.
Absolutely adore the alliteration in some parts. The imagery is really strong, too. Very well done. ❤
Tell me why I saw visions of myself pre-sobriety as I was reading this? I felt that you touched upon addiction very “nicely,” if I can say that for lack of better words.