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cerebrum tempest
by Rachelle Howemy nails, they
twist and bend as i rock your boat
wandering through lifelines and tornadoes,
wandering through,
wandering.
the beast swallowed
my humanity. i was kept
picking at your ardent brain,
each remnant tagged and cataloged,
my courage a rotshreck.
i delved into your many appetites,
wrapped up in your cerebellum.
you kept me captive by your
gray matter for over a century and i,
i was dug in a rut,
dug in my tomb,
cradled in your mouth,
drunk on fermented pieces, still
you did not spit me out.
09/06/2004 Author's Note: so this is me, throwing up words. they taste REALLY nasty coming back up. kinda like mexican. it's unfinished, but um, yeah. so. thanks for the message. *BEEP*
bring it, mr. paez. more fermenting to come from him and i.
and scott, i adore you. your wish is more than granted. :)
Posted on 09/06/2004
Copyright © 2024 Rachelle Howe
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Richard Paez on 09/06/04 at 08:54 PM My gift to my beloved Raggy:
cradled in your mouth and
getting you drunk on my fermented pieces, still
you did not spit me out.
I love this. “My courage a rotshreck” approaching this, it is not quotable, an organic whole, an organic hole that beckons and swallows. I have been wrapped up like this, and god it would please me to think that this was written for me, to think I could wrap someone up like this. You describe the experience, the gray matter you are so wrapped up in, as a rut, a tomb. Is not pure satisfaction, rapture, the first step into the tunnel with the light at the end of it? But you touch on something deeper than that—death is the forgetting of the self. This person has you so wrapped up that you have become unrecognizable even to yourself. You stepped away from that and observed this objectively, appreciated it for what it is. That is amazing. How many times have I/we been so wrapped up and unable to step away long enough to appreciate it. You dies long enough to touch-see a god, and then came back from the dead long enough to tell us about it. Your use of the fingernails at the beginning—are they not our most valuable tool besides out “humanities,” but also our great vulnerability, something that when broken or twisted causes us so much pain? This eats me alive as it ate you alive—the question is, how will we be digested? Thank you for sharing this raggy-love. –R |m| |
| Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 09/08/04 at 12:59 AM Fascinating take on relationship Rachelle. Strange new word: rotshreck. What does it mean? |
| Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 09/08/04 at 01:00 AM PS: Love the title...well suited for the piece! :o) |
| Posted by Karl Waldbauer on 09/08/04 at 11:30 PM When I got to "the beast swallowed my humanity" I was completely hooked. Excellent, excellent writing. |
| Posted by Mara Meade on 09/10/04 at 05:30 PM Wow, Rachelle! So much in captured in thie poem... disgust, bile, anguish, assertiveness... this is an awesome poem. |
| Posted by Laura Doom on 09/15/04 at 11:14 PM more fervent fomenting...putricious *grinds* |
| Posted by Max Bouillet on 10/19/04 at 11:42 AM Powerful images.... the character that you have been chewing on, I guess it chews back. Images that catapults themselves deep inside the reader where the id is fearful and hiding from the barrage. Great read. |
| Posted by Tom Goss on 12/04/04 at 06:37 PM Damn I love the ending on this. Fantastic last stanza. |
| Posted by Amanda Bullington on 05/08/05 at 05:38 PM very powerful stuff. |
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