Monday, 17th January, 2011
Ripple
The floor has a ripple
in it, which is funny
because the carpet is blue
like the sea and the baby
is pulling and chewing
on your nipple so hard
that it bleeds
and her little legs kick-
kick you, her hands find
your hair and pull hard
and there's a roaring
in your ears that might
be the sea and they ask
you if you're blue and
you say you just need
some sleep then everything
will be alright but now
the floor has a ripple in it.
I think I may have forgotten to let you all know that I have some new work over at Turbine 10. Here is one of the pieces.
Easing back into the Tuesday Poem...
If you would like to submit a poem to be published on my blog as a Tuesday Poem (They can be previously published) contact me.
Comments
oh so witty and sharp
oh so witty and sharp
Ooh I find this poem hard to
Ooh I find this poem hard to read because I think I'm still in ripple-land, but I love it and mothers all over the world will thank you for writing it. xx Helen
Helen, this poem -
Helen, this poem - marvellous. So marvellous. It is the sister poem I think to the hub poem this week by T. Clear. Another commentary on 'the womanly art of caring.' Thank you. Mary
wicked little poem - love it,
wicked little poem - love it, r
I love the shape of this
I love the shape of this poem, the way the rippling floor contains the searing middle.
Mm, there's a hardness to
Mm, there's a hardness to this poem that is delightful. Thanks for posting, Helen!
I read 'witty, sharp,
I read 'witty, sharp, wicked', but it still makes me melt - the kick-kick and the hand in your hair - but I'm a Granny now and in love with my granddaughter - so I'm blinded by love with the image of a mother feeding even if the floor ripples and she's bone tired - it's the tug of love that I love and what's a little blood.
Helen, that poem is lovely.
Helen, that poem is lovely. Not an experience I have had directly, but I know it well from my friends. Being a mother isn't all sweetness and light, especially not when you're so tired you're asleep on your feet. I also love the rhythms you set up, and the water swimming dreamy blueness. Beautiful.
I like the cleverness of the
I like the cleverness of the poem's construction and the mix of hard reality and dreaminess in the content.