Apr 2016
Lead through the hospital house,
where residual ashes of Zeus
lay in heaps at broken corners,
coating derelict floorboards.
GO! The purple ball of light
is waiting.
Enter the hall of purity,
filled with macaroon sorrow
and empty thoughts.
Athena stands on the right,
her head upon a serving dish.
Listen closely ...
A distant phone
in the darkened cove
is ringing.
DON'T ANSWER IT!
Beware a nurse on the left.
Recognition of her temporal existence
permeates through mucous membranes.
Notice the stillness of air.
Breathe it in, it does not flow.
Follow through a doorway
to the kitchen.
Silver pans (or chimes?) (or bells?)
hang above a perfect sink
while droplets of blood
incessantly drip, drip, drip,
falling from a crying wrist,
gently striking the sink bottom.
Plead to not be forced
into the room of mistaken hospitality,
where beds of white cotton
invite with chanted whispers
the compliant to lay exposed.
View the ceiling from this
submissive position.
It yields confusing colors of light:
- Red wine
- Blue water
swirling together
and forming indistinct patterns.
Fearfully watch as a waxing
flying caterpillar
emerges from the purple swirling porthole
and craving intense gratification.
It will consume the laying prey
through frantic silent screams.
Feel the edges of a harsh cocoon
woven around the bed.
It traps with silky wings
and trembling agitation.
Do not scream
Do not cry
Do not try to fight.
Allow icy numbness to spread
and entertain immortal abandonment,
for who would understand?
- Kerry Ann Herrmann
where residual ashes of Zeus
lay in heaps at broken corners,
coating derelict floorboards.
GO! The purple ball of light
is waiting.
Enter the hall of purity,
filled with macaroon sorrow
and empty thoughts.
Athena stands on the right,
her head upon a serving dish.
Listen closely ...
A distant phone
in the darkened cove
is ringing.
DON'T ANSWER IT!
Beware a nurse on the left.
Recognition of her temporal existence
permeates through mucous membranes.
Notice the stillness of air.
Breathe it in, it does not flow.
Follow through a doorway
to the kitchen.
Silver pans (or chimes?) (or bells?)
hang above a perfect sink
while droplets of blood
incessantly drip, drip, drip,
falling from a crying wrist,
gently striking the sink bottom.
Plead to not be forced
into the room of mistaken hospitality,
where beds of white cotton
invite with chanted whispers
the compliant to lay exposed.
View the ceiling from this
submissive position.
It yields confusing colors of light:
- Red wine
- Blue water
swirling together
and forming indistinct patterns.
Fearfully watch as a waxing
flying caterpillar
emerges from the purple swirling porthole
and craving intense gratification.
It will consume the laying prey
through frantic silent screams.
Feel the edges of a harsh cocoon
woven around the bed.
It traps with silky wings
and trembling agitation.
Do not scream
Do not cry
Do not try to fight.
Allow icy numbness to spread
and entertain immortal abandonment,
for who would understand?
- Kerry Ann Herrmann
I don't know if it's obvious (it is to me). I hoped to capture the psychological effects of ****** abuse... The systematic weakening between leading, entering, following, and finally being forced. I hoped that the defeat of both Zeus and Athena (the strongest god and goddess) would immediately foreshadow the stripping away of one's strength. A flying caterpillar is of course a butterfly, and a symbol of change, though not a positive change in this case. Of course, their is the obvious ******* symbolism in a waxing or growing caterpillar. Finally, there is red wine and blue water, both of which are symbols of sacrament and baptism, perhaps the only thing that can ultimately save the victim. Was my poem way too obscure to catch all that?
