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Valley of Debt
by Laura DoomMy mother inhabits an image
created in her own world
painted in binary colours
compressed beyond affection.
...
My sister's mother, had she not been cremated
would have turned in her grave; as it is
she drifts through the afterlife
blissfully aware of those
for whom love equates
with substance abuse.
Her passion was to quote her elders and betters;
accommodate, assimilate, accumulate;
to imitate, to advocate and child-play devil incarnate.
The company she kept was financed
by plagiarism, a concept far in advance
of her limited resources. The word entered
her head, but excused itself before significance
could be evaluated and pronounced.
She had no idea
how to realize the benefits
of substance abuse.
...
On a scale of black to white
my mother is invisible
no matter how regressive her decompression
or progressive my rendition.
I am now old enough
to be my own mother
though lacking the maturity
for either to disown the other.
We owe it to ourselves
to pay off our respects
and make the most
of borrowed father time. 01/07/2014 Author's Note: [edit 17-06-15]
Posted on 01/07/2014
Copyright © 2024 Laura Doom
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 01/08/14 at 07:11 PM I like the use of "my sister's mother" and your unique take on family dysfunction. That last stanza is a wise conclusion and goal. |
| Posted by Quentin S Clingerman on 01/08/14 at 09:44 PM What a sad commentary on family dysfunction! Honoring a parent made most difficult. The last stanza a glimmer of hope. |
| Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 01/11/14 at 11:47 AM Quite the insightful piece Laura. And as one who has learned the hard way about the benefits and dangers of substance abuse, I can relate to it in one sense. |
| Posted by Rhiannon Jones on 01/11/14 at 04:21 PM I've always admired how you use your very rich and extensive vocabulary to support your interesting sound-play. And to convey your meaning, of course! Good poem. |
| Posted by Therese Elaine on 01/14/14 at 05:18 PM You still know how to make me ache with your ability to turn a phrase in the most profoundly simple of ways...I have lost count of how many times you have broken my heart but I know I still keep looking forward to the next. |
| Posted by Dane Campbell on 01/17/14 at 04:52 AM This is quite brilliant on many levels, at once craftsmanlike and ruggedly powerful. |
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