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creative degeneration
by Laura Doommy great grandmother
was great with children
enslaved her master
a testament to her will
she loved them to death
my grandmother fought for freedom
took liberties
went postal
with every male delivered
Mother wasn't great with child
wild flowers broke the bank
and damned her stream
of consciousness
transference of faith
by freedom of association
regression to the analyst
my curse
free verse
from sinister
to cata-strophe
driven to destruction
brake on, break off
this is the end of the line 06/15/2010 Posted on 06/15/2010
Copyright © 2024 Laura Doom
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Anita Mac on 06/15/10 at 02:14 PM It's easy to think past generations so far above us, but I don't think you're a degenerate. Not here anyway. |
| Posted by Tom Goss on 06/15/10 at 02:41 PM A surprising and rewarding little word journey. |
| Posted by Max Bouillet on 07/09/10 at 01:49 AM Holding hands with ancestors into the fading ink of history books is a test of self preservation and internal fortitude. After all, we are the summ of them both good and bad. It is up to us to determine to which we identify. My personal thought is that I will miss future yous. |
| Posted by Ulyss Rubey on 09/05/10 at 11:11 PM Ah, question answered. I think I may have crossed paths with you grandmother.;) |
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