Mulier Loquitur Mortuis

Winter is coming,
like ice jammed into an envelope, 
mailed sharp to the heart of your flabby complacency.

Oh, I'm sorry, dear.
I know how you hate talk of the slaughter
which necessarily precedes your roast of beef on its platter.

something just hit the window
hard enough to dent the lead and crack the old glass.

Rev'rend on his black horse rode,
passage marked with one red rose;
He found Esther, Esther cried,
one red rose by the waterside.

Get out of bed.
It's time we talked.
Don't you find me appealing anymore, with red in my hair?

The ostler had a fine shovel,
and my last thought was of nothing in particular.
Now learn, at my insistence, the value of doing a job yourself.

You look gray,
as if all your blood had turned to smoke.
Listen to you sputtering, ridiculous, invoking your cotton-eared god.

Rev'rend on your errand rode.
Esther cried and Esther chose.
Gospel came surprisingly
in bloom and thorn blood-picked by me.

for grapeling's word list at Real Toads. I used "smoke", "winter" and "slaughter".



Kerry O'Connor said…
I really enjoyed this poem, Shay. There's a kind of galloping rhythm to your chorus verses and your characters are clearly depicted.
Sherry Blue Sky said…
I LOVE "like ice jammed into an envelope" and the discomfort of acknowledging "the slaughter that precedes your roast of beef on its platter". (good one.) The rhythm of this piece lends itself well to the tale.
hedgewitch said…
This makes me feel as if someone dead were indeed talking(as per your title) in that disjointed way, separate and disparate images, memories rather surreal and distorted, non-sequitur statements and little not-so-nonsensical rhymes. Truly spooky, and truly well-written, Shay.
grapeling said…
"you look grey / as if all your blood had turned to smoke"

damn, what a great line. this one feels like it was written by someone on the other side. thanks for adding your voice, Shay ~
Cloudia said…
so much to find in the crackling flames of your creativity

ALOHA from Honolulu
Susan said…
OwWOOOOO! Together with the Sinead O, this is an unforgettable experience. The victim returns forever, I am certain of it, and your lines make me feel that I hear Esther herself speak from beyond the grave while watching the Reverend dear "...invoking your cotton-eared god."
From the other side, you get to finally say what you want. That lovely photo and quote gone awry.
Mama Zen said…
I want to claim that second stanza as mine. Outstanding.
Mr Puddy said…
You look grey ?
You need a glasses...tee..heh..I
Just be silly
Lynn said…
Very cool, FB!
Sara said…
I loved "You look gray,
as if all your blood had turned to smoke." LOL That's a good line.

Not that you won't have an even better one, but this poem is spooky enough for me to wish you a very hauntingly happy Halloween.

p.s. And Skittles too:~)
was the "ostler" verse a reference to horse shit? (yes, i had to google ostler so i'm damn well gonna mention it in my comment, even if it doesn't make any sense.)

i'm gonna go to Coal's to catch up, but then i'm going to tear up every piece of paper in my house; throw away every pen and pencil; unplug my laptop and remove its battery (it cost too much to destroy it) and then delete my blog.

oh, wait... i guess i need to delete my blog before i unplug my laptop. i'll figure it out.

Like someone the world discarded speaking out from a once-overgrown grave, now bared to the world. Beautiful.

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