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Heart of The Sunset
by Laura DoomMy sister has a disease
too depressing for tears, yet
tearing at my eyes.
Her friends are cruel to be kind,
well-meaning fluids, syphoned
from the sinks of the sympathetic.
Our blood is no thicker
than primordial soup, pored
over between courses.
She is scared of dying
in poverty, blanking out
the will of my prodigal sun. 03/03/2009 Posted on 03/03/2009
Copyright © 2024 Laura Doom
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 03/03/09 at 12:46 AM Clever and somehow, even bleaker than usual. I love it. |
| Posted by George Hoerner on 03/03/09 at 12:54 PM Well done Laura, and are not all afraid of dying? We try to hide behind prayer and piety or wit and whimsy or even believing it doesn't exist. But it's always there slicing into like a scalpel so sharp we don't even feel it. |
| Posted by Joan Serratelli on 03/03/09 at 02:08 PM I'm sorry about your sister. I know too well how it is to have a really bad meical condition. I'm not afraid of dying; rather it's living like this that scares the hell out of me. Great write. |
| Posted by Laurie Blum on 03/03/09 at 05:23 PM Very Powerful and filled with emotion. You did an excellent job of conveying fear and sadness with this poem. |
| Posted by Rachelle Howe on 03/04/09 at 03:13 PM So nicely done. A nugget punch with one hundred percent all white meat. But really, which disease rots from the inside out? Greed and impropriety. Makes me want to tear flesh. |
| Posted by Elizabeth Jill on 03/05/09 at 12:01 AM I think that your prodigal sun eclipses itself in your poems, Laura. When reading what pores/pours from yore/your mind, I am deepened. You are, to me, where I go when I wish to swim in the deep ends.
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| Posted by Elizabeth Jill on 03/05/09 at 12:05 AM I wonder how many understand the meaning of "cruel to be kind"?
I know that - all my life - what gets me weeping most assuredly is that anyone would be kind to me. I am always amazed, and it is always an unexpected benevolent surprise gift.
(...from pondering over the beginning of your poem and thinking about your sister.) |
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