Sunday 15 April 2012

Infidelity

Red Roofs, Marc Chagall, 1954
I cannot make myself thin,
no sin-eater I,
I cannot devour
past transgressions,
cannot lay
the feast of me
on naked breast -
grist to the mill
for those who chatter. 
No matter,
(for now)
I will bear this load,
add fat to my lean.

Occasionally,
conscience pricked,
I peck at me like
some mean eyed gull,
let hot blood run red,
try to pick clean my guilt
of loving you - but fail,
cannot let you go,
remain hungry
for the love of you,
want to eat you up,
get fat on you.

Anna :o]

With thanks to Tess at The Mag for the inspiration.  Also entered at The Poetry Pantry at Poets United – thanks Poets United

60 comments:

Maggie said...

A truly emotional piece.

I have a feeling the magpies will be very interesting this week.

Brian Miller said...

nice...love how the second stanza plays off the first...and the desperation too in being willing to pick at and let bleed but still hungry for more..

Frances Garrood said...

Wow! Anna how do you come up with such a powerful piece in such a short time? I'm full of admiration!

Kathe W. said...

so intense and passionate.

Laurel's Quill said...

dripping with major red passion and angst and turmoil and....whew!

hyperCRYPTICal said...

Thank you for your very kind comments folks!

Frances ~ I have to be honest and inform the first stanza was written on Wednesday - and then I got stuck...

... and then I saw Tess's delicious prompt and everything fell into place!

Must get reading all other fine poems now!

Anna :o]

Anonymous said...

Your poems are beautiful, masterful even - this one no exception, a brilliant interpretation of the picture prompt.

Tess Kincaid said...

Oh I peck at me too...for this same issue...powerful write...

Sherry Blue Sky said...

Oh this poem is a great interpretation of the accompanying picture. I especially like "I peck at me like some mean-eyed gull...."

Kay said...

wow..powerful and strong piece..love it!

Jinksy said...

try to pick clean my guilt
of loving you

That's tough!

Anonymous said...

the fact that you say you can't reinforces the issue, and makes it so

Daydreamertoo said...

Awww... there's nothing worse than not being able to let someone go, I know, I find it so hard to do too.
Powerful imagery, great writing.

christopher said...

I have been there and watched, me not bearing guilt so much, and I fought to keep her when the guilt took her too far from me. For me, it was fear of that that stung my soul so often, because I knew from the beginning that it could not last forever. Knowing so, I had to act as if our clandestine life could eventually rise to the surface and then we could survive. I had to act that way to be in it at all. Of course I lost.

Gail said...

Very interesting. Isn't it amazing we all see so many different things?

Anonymous said...

Love these lines:
"I cannot make myself thin"
"cannot lay the feast of me on naked breast"
"I peck at me like some mean eyed gull"

rosemarymint.wordpress.com

kaykuala said...

The relationship is obviously close. No guilt feelings otherwise! No easy task to call it quits not with such emotional ties! Great verse!


Hank

Helen said...

I have watched as a loved one suffered with anorexia .. your poem impacted on so many levels ... beautifully composed.

Anonymous said...

ohh, so gorgeous, i read this as the desire, hunger for a higher power to fill you up.

Susan Anderson said...

"I peck at me like some mean eyed gull, let hot blood run red, try to pick clean my guilt of loving you..."

Such a powerful image.

=)

Lucy Westenra said...

Lovely and wistful, with some images that can be read as quite funny. Great work.

Stafford Ray said...

"I peck at me like
some mean eyed gull" seems to be a favourite line, and no wonder... we all do that!

Jenny Woolf said...

Oh you have some powerful images, and I like the conclusion.

I am interested to see how very different various peoples' responses to this particular prompt are.

Dick Jones said...

You capture the essence of the prompt, drawing on the rich colours and extravagant forms.

Little Nell said...

This is powerful stuff Anna, I too like the 'peck at me' image. The yearning is palpable.

Lolamouse said...

Wow! Such an intense piece of writing! I love the idea of getting fat on someone!

Anonymous said...

Wonderfully executed metaphor...really quality stuff. Vb

Anonymous said...

Precise, concise, and intense. Excellent

Mary said...

The title captured my attention, and the poem kept it. Interesting thoughts on conscience as well. Masterful.

Strummed Words said...

What an interesting "love" story!

Dave King said...

This is as powerful and compelling as they come. Beautifully crafted and cleverly conceived.

hyperCRYPTICal said...

Thank you for your very kind comments folks.

Just off to meet my lover...

...in my dreams (literally)!

Anna :o]

Jack Edwards Poetry said...

An emotional and captivating poem! Great stuff!

Hannah said...

Oh, this just breathes of blood and life, Anna!! I love this...

"cannot lay
the feast of me
on naked breast -"

excellent wording!

Sharp Little Pencil said...

Holy smokes, Anna, this is visceral and vivid. Powerful stuff, love - and what it does to us and makes us do to ourselves. Steamin' hot great! Amy
http://sharplittlepencil.com/2012/04/18/bud-is-bummin/

Susie Clevenger said...

Passionate...repentant (a little any way :) ) powerful piece

Rosemary Nissen-Wade said...

A feast of a poem!

Unknown said...

I read numerous responses to this prompt. Yours is by far the most well-honed, precise and evocative. Really good writing.

hyperCRYPTICal said...

Thank you so much for your kind comments - they are really appreciated.

Anna :o]

drerhumu said...

Don't know why I sometimes can't publish my comment. I particularly like the imagery of one becoming fat with past guilt looking for a way to become lean. Well done.

Adura Ojo said...

I agree with Rosemary...A feast of a poem, it is. So passionate too.

Claudia said...

ugh...felt write...the pecking, the blood..the remaining hungry...strong emotions in this and i like the images you chose to pen them to paper..

Anonymous said...

Very visual, disturbing and absolutely awesome poem.

the wild magnolia said...

it is not easy
to manage the infidelity.
a struggle, the pain,
the never out of sight
out of mind.

great job.

Ruth said...

Yes. Nice word play and rhythm.

Your poem reminds me of Joni Mitchell's line "I could drink a case of you."

hyperCRYPTICal said...

Thanks again for your kind comments folks!

Anna :o]

Celestial Dreamz said...

so very intense ...

Brother Ollie said...

such a cool style - well done!

Unknown said...

Reminds me of the song 'Kite' by U2 from -funnily enough- "All that you can't leave behind".

Its so easy to hurt yourself sometimes for very little pleasure. The human condition is a wondrous thing.

hyperCRYPTICal said...

Thanks so much for you kind comments Celestial Dreamz, Old Ollie and icyHighs - they are much appreciated.

Anna :o]

Misterio Vida said...

amazing... you write wonderfully :) totally appreciate :)

Luke Prater said...

some cut and thrust and emotion without over-sentimentality (which I always appreciate massively). The bit of grit you sprinkle over the roses makes for a more challenged gardener. Dig. Pun intended.

Luke Prater said...

Hi again Ms Gramme - the email notification system on the poetry group FEPC isn't functioning properly, so you may have missed that your (quite wonderful) piece got some more crit/comments

Anonymous said...

do we have psychiatrist in here?

Anna, why don't you publish them for real? This is request number 2.

hyperCRYPTICal said...

Cheers for your kind comments folks.

Anonymous - I need a psychiatrist!

Anna :o]

Anonymous said...

@hyper

sure you do, your cannibalistic fanasies are shocking even to me, acclaimed liberal

hyperCRYPTICal said...

Anonymous - I am grateful for your wisdom and have just made an appointment... :o]

will write a post of what happens...

Anna :o]

Anonymous said...

Come on, what wisdom?! What can you expect of someone who fills pinboard with pins and trims them? Who is interested in derifling screws only? Picks up snails from sidewalks and puts them in right places so they could avoid imminent danger. Who dilutes inks obsessively? What can you expect of someone who is never jealous of anything or anybody? Who is inclined to fill needles' eyes with liquid metal waiting for the ultimate reward, the full needle? Who is collecting dust in perspective of making atomizers ready to use in any given moment? Who has this unbearable notion to write with white ink on white paper? Is never envious. Doesn't feed on hatered. Who attaches collars with messages to apparently homeless cats and gets responses. Seriously, you overestimate anonymous authors.

Anonymous said...

/I swear it supposed to be funny. Pls don't hate me. I'm doin' my best./

To hell with that, I've been trying to rewrite Wuthering Heights and here: (catastrophy):

out on the chilley, free lay gurl /look, I know I'm hopeless.../

he'd roll and fall on screen /here you do ha ha ha/

he had a temper like (my jealousy-cut it out) roasted kidneys with pudding preferably

too hot too speedy

how could you leave me with a table set on two

when i needed to regress with you
i hated throu i loved gin too

bat dreams in the night
they told him he was going to put up the fight

and

leave behind my stuttering, stuttering, stuttering

heights

infidelity, part 2 said...

He was sitting right in front of me. Good looking, below 30. Observing my right hand holding perfetly sized and shaped half a liter bottle of water. Fingers closed around it tightly enough to keep it erect. Briefly and very discreetly focusing on me drinking water. He noticed I noticed. My lips immediately moving in reciprocation 'Do you want some?' He smiled shyly and shook his head. Sweet man with big eyes. Little indiscretion of his afternoon, sexualizing my bottle of water. I could feel his look behind me, below waistline, above high heels when leaving the train. The ghost cock made him look, a see through bottle of water.