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The Woman Who Wasn’t There
By Stranger
I awoke to the sound of a woman’s voice
That hung in the air like a mist at dawn
It caressed my ear like a lover’s trailing fingers down my cheek
She was saying “goodbye”
She was saying “goodbyeÂ…”
Frantically, I searched my memories for her name, her face
NothingÂ…
I tried to call back
But my words were feathers falling to the floor
I tried to make chase
But my skeleton was seeping into the mattress
I was becoming the bed, the room, the universe
I awoke to the sound of my own voice screaming
It had all been a dream
It had all been a dreamÂ…
Unauthorized Copying Is Prohibited.
Ask the author first.
© 2008 Stranger
Published on Thursday, October 16, 2008.
Filed under:
"Poetry"
Comments on "The Woman Who Wasn’t There"
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On Sunday, October 19, 2008, Jonas
(715)
wrote:
a sense of life slipping away as it will naturally tend to do with we little human animals always grabbing at it and insisting we are not a part of it. loneliness is that we are not the mattress. which was the dream? hi!, by the way. good to hear from you!
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On Friday, October 17, 2008, Carmina Gitana
(149) wrote:
It just occurred to me - it's so funny and strange - I found your poem today, hours after writing something that totally made me think of you when a couple of lines popped into it. Vibes are funny that way . . .
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On Friday, October 17, 2008, Carmina Gitana
(149) wrote:
I've always loved your verbal transmogrifications of the body. The image of the skeleton seeping into the mattress is disturbing, beautiful and original. The line repetitions evoke the rhythms of post-nightmare breathing patterns. God, I'm glad you're back, even if it's only for this moment.
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On Friday, October 17, 2008, Aurora_Light
(472) wrote:
First Welcome Back!! I've missed you. And second, wonderful work, short and sweet conveying the emotion the anguish with power without over stimulating the reader.
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On Thursday, October 16, 2008, Leith Plunkett
(237) wrote:
(But my words were feathers falling to the floor) What a beautiful line. Really brought home the message of hopelessness. A beautiful poem
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A former member wrote:
I like the repetition, while I can't say the subject or conception is all that unique, I think the approach, the style of expression compensates sufficiently. Women... dreams and nightmares... startling and yet somehow serene... the soft imagery contrasts well with the scream... love the paradoxical element there. Welcome back!
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