I am small;
a pink stick
still blossom
smothered in gasoline.
A sunset is coming with trumpets.
I drink terror under the table;
a jungle of Heaven.
I pout when the symphony
plays out,
the cherry violin stampede
chases my breath
away.
I am accused,
though I feel clean.
My hand’s in the cookie jar
with a pistol.
I must be sick.
My head is sneezing,
my insides fevering,
heading south.
I hear my mother pray for a safe way.
Let me pass. Let me raise the
icebergs to the sun and melt
with them.
The great horns blow
into my throat,
deep musical breaths
pump my chest,
but I last it out.
I am a small, crushed blossom
under the foot of guilt
and shame.
Strike a match.
Let me blend with the end of the day.
With my hand on the trigger,
In my own way,
let me pray.
I love your last four lines. “Let me blend with the end of the day. / With my hand on the trigger, / In my own way, / let me pray.” It’s beautiful, Maggie Mae.
I really like this.
Terrific work.
love this one – thanks for posting!
Reblogged this on HRSH REYALITEE.
This is so naked and disturbing Maggie. It almost leaves me speechless. May I say wow?
Kudos!
good stuff 🙂
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Congratulations Maggie Mae! I nominated you for the Sisterhood of the World Bloggers Award! You are my sis and I love reading what you write. Your poetry is so honest and touches our hearts. Congratulations beautiful!
Before I went to sleep I read this poem. I must say I had interesting dreams 🙂 My favorite part:
“A sunset is coming with trumpets.
I drink terror under the table;
a jungle of Heaven.”
as always, I enjoyed this. Thanks for posting another great poem
This is how I’ve felt the past three days. Very nice.
very powerful imagery
I have to say that this is right up there with my favorites!!!
🙂
I love this one. I feel as though life is pounding me, but this is also an anthem, and I want to stand up, defy the naysayers, and get after life.