#Class of 1986 #metoo

Survivors

awakening ?

  

stagnant, soured crypt-born breath.

dead dry dull be-drugged lumberous limbs,

unnatural, torpid, slothful misery - mired miasma,

snake onto the doll's blanched legs

sputom covers its arms as they try in vain to rouse her

(she's a doll! are you crazy?!)

‘’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’ 

Cries are vain.

Your crying is so very vain.

You are so very vain, my dear,

but this so endears me to you, my love -

now stroke me here, my little doll;

stroke me darling; do not cry;

the comedy: her reddened eye,

a missile aimed a bit too high -

Cries are vain;

you feel no pain.

You Feel No Pain.

You Feel No Pain.

 ~~~~~~~

Life hangs in dreams of other times - only - 

nevermore, not here, never here again -

 “”””””””

Life's far-flung angels, replaced by saccharin beasts;

flesh rolls, turbid torturous bellows

upon the tiny downy pillows,

pins the petite porcelain creature;

murdered heart; stilled sane soul;

(never really stolen Soul)

stained crimson numbing treachery;

a fortnight sleeps the memory

three - decade death, debauchery -

inanimate creations do not sleep;

man-handled forms no substance make;

life, now a thing to look upon

a once-remembered dream, a dawn,

a song, smiles, love; no morbid steeping;

quagmired hopes, desperate screams - 

She lay in drink- drowsed guilty dreams

drink-drowsed dirty dooming dreams.

 ~~~~

crush such lecherous vapid demons

stir curdled leche *  in their tea

malignant monsters pound pale porcelain

dead the dolls who blinded be -

“Take them to your quilted halls;

anesthetize their baths, burn all;

confiscate their tight-laced shoes,

their bottled love; their airless thrills;

feed them tiny rainbow poison

rolled in ether, made by boys

who self-flagellate in basement cells

conspiring to demonic calls…”

be above;

be silent behind your huge oak desk,

where dolls lie coiled in deep unrest;

experiment: the Fury pays -

always offer them a space

to speak; pretend to hear their cries;

in history they find a way

to still the pain

to slay the dreams;                                   

call them crazy

steal their lives

frigid smiling doll housewives

sing on the telly

play world games;

some celebrate a different way;

some celebrate in other ways;

(we pay and pay and pay and pay .... 
what are our crimes?
maybe I shall never know
maybe we will never know
and we cannot confess
we can never tell  
you know why 

~~~~~

She lay in drink- drowsed guilty dreams

drink-drowsed dirty dooming dreams. 

~~~~~~

 

Hold the doll down - down!

Irritated dolls have been known to speak – 
         “down! down, she cried! “

Tease her mouth; the willow switch tickles them;

Look!

(drowned laughter foams upward above her; she floats away on its current}

("teacher, terrible thing, what happened to the gold girl - do you wonder where she's gone?")

“ look away; look away; you may find this part slightly unpleasant.”

(how do you survive here?)

Early; too early, four in the morning! I should be dreaming; should have had my sweetened tea! (drifts…)

“…you selfish bastard! Help me finish here. Stifle! Here! A rag - stuff the mouth- there - good- good boy- “

Really? really I may go far? (earnest and hopeful) 

* leche : milk, Spanish

fantasies: the Ancient Priory: Dudley, West Midlands, England

musings: the Ancient Priory: Dudley, West Midlands, England

( always: Be prepared to capture huge round reverberating HeartVibes...)

reedy-piped Music swirls, swells, 
                                                      crescendos,

aWake!

Hills bounce, roll, tussle, shoot emerald echoes over ancient arbors;
once shreds, alabaster ebony birds re-animate,
float down to repose
upon
delicately chiseled stone deities
(hear their Music?)
**********************************************

Intermezzo:

Divine this Circle:
jeweled nocturnal Mountain Sky,
where
orange Lights spray tangerine mists;

melt apricots, peaches,

 tangy Southern mangoes;

spread

honeyed nectar Songs, unabashed,

while
Her enchanted Seas' secrets caress us in whispers ....

 oooh.... these Clouds' tender touches:
(where? oh when? have we moved to now?)

********************************************************

Her drowsy painted tapestries,
dusk's wild horizons, brush-woven bounty
hidden maidens' apparitions
awake
beneath roseate garden canopies
tucked inside Night's turban - 

but

Once here strode monks, dreaming of lilacs glow', alight upon feather pillows:

(the sweet ones' Gifts, to make you live;
the sweet ones Gift,  to make you  live.)

Here strode monks; 

see their outlines midst Her shadows

Over here inside her valleys

their long be-robed legs stretched to wake upon the Evening Air

drifting in the cool damp grass

away, 

beyond the priory, to the cloistered orphaned dove-calls,

O, ye distant cluttered Souls,

where have you gone? 

oh! I see you two

I embraced Round Faeries' venerable dust 

                                       

                                     (sshhhh...)

"You float in a new Heaven;

 hear friendship's sweetest whispers?
each Moment,

 widen your eyes.

a little bit more

be not afraid

***Poems in Garlands***

 for my TruestAngel, my SoulMate, my sweet LK, Robin:
 see the grounds where we were wed?

© CherylFaith Taylor 2013 - May 2016