 |
| Meshes of the Afternoon by Maya Deren |
The bread is stale
The flowers are dead
I look in the mirror and see
my mother
The roses are red
So is the blood
The mirror is cracked
The pill is swallowed
The flowers are lovely
The bread is round
The people are celebrating
The door is open
There is no bread
The flowers are pressed
The knife is at the wrist
The baby cries
The baby cries
The baby cries
The dirt is on the grave
The mirrors are covered
Where is the key?
Swallowed by grandmother
The stairs are endless
The phone is silent
The music has stopped
I stare at the key
The bread is stale
The flowers are dead
I look in the mirror and see
my mother.
submitted for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Bits of Inspiration: Maya Deren
10 comments:
Wow, LM (a word I don't use often) This is extremely strong, and really picks up the vibe of the film in all kinds of subtle ways, the frenetic panic allied with a kind of paralysis, the anxiety, the looming feeling of something really bad that can't be run away from...great take, excellent poem.
This is one of those poems that beg to be read out loud... I love the cadence of it and the strong images. Very nice.
Just looking at your tag: Growing old sucks...So many responsibilities, so many things to remember. I m not sure what Deren was attempting to convey in her film but you have told a whole story here, of life and death and what lies in between.
Some days are not worth getting up for, Lola. You have shown the ultimate in ones. Been there, done that, but I couldn't stay.
Other vein, I look at myself in the mirror and see my mom too. My features are my dad's but the wrinkles are my mom's. (My stomach is Grandpa's.)
..
This is SPECTACULAR, Lolamouse! A total zinger. Nailed it.
Uppers and Downers in No Man's Land becoming an endless treadmill. You geve it all a twist of horrendous hopelessness.
Oh man, you do foreign movies well!
You have created a powerful piece. There is the pain of aging, ghosts that torment. You have done such a great job of interpreting the video. Thanks so much for writing for the challenge!
i look in the mirror only to trim my scraggly beard. i try not to look into my eyes because of what i may see.
the pain in my back (spinal stenosis) and the numbness of my legs from a malady manifesting from my hip implants reminds me constantly of my aging yet i view it as a challenge. love challenges because they force me to live let alone in the moment.
this piece hit every edge in the human condition most dreaded if we live to experience it
gracias mi amiga. hope you have a fulfilling weekend :)
I can only agree with all of the above comments. Outstanding.
Post a Comment