04-21-2014, 12:46 AM
I apologize, this is quite lengthy. But I would greatly appreciate if you give it a read and comment if you wish! I wanted to experiment with the Kübler-Ross model in a poem. This is the absolute first draft and wanted to just put it out there!
Through the Storm
I
Heavy perfume of crushed roses and tulips
blankets my nose as pruned lips meet my cheek,
whispering that everything will be okay.
I dive down the depths of my pocket
and pull out my mother's tumor.
It throbs in my hand as I watch
a red rivulet over my blue veins
as it races down my forearm,
pressing the pavement with a roseate stamp.
II
Hot white strokes upset the black sky to
thunderous boos and dribbling murmurs.
Heaving breaths enter the pistons in my lungs,
combusting a rage that no downpour can put out.
My toes eclipse the lip of the lake that my Mom took me to
when she gave me a RC boat three Christmases ago.
I scream over the thunder as I skip my bible across the lake,
it rides the storming waves
until I unabashedly watch it sink.
III
***Bargaining, have yet to create this stanza***
IV
Last Spring, a beautiful black bird dipped in ink
would perch on our kitchen windowsill every day.
My Mom would feed it seeds and laugh as the bird
trilled along the her humming.
I think the same bird tried to visit today.
My eager fingers tried to lift the dusty window to let him in
but my dad came into the kitchen, teetering with
a glass bottle in his hand. His heavy breath
and fist met my already hued face
until he wobbled back to his room.
I looked at my face in the bathroom mirror,
a flowing river through violaceous hills,
my eyes dense like a raven.
V
I graduated from high school today, I cheered
as I threw my cap into the heavens,
proudly watching it sway back to the ground.
I assure my friends that I will be at their parties
in a little while, I have to do something.
I exit my car and teeter towards my Mom's tombstone,
it's been a little while since I have visited her last.
I tell her that I graduated and I will be going to college in the fall.
I place a bouquet of roses and tulips against the stone that soaks in the sun.
A tiny fledging with feathers of the night battles the wind and loses,
fluttering until finally perching atop of my Mom's gravestone.
An incandescent smile spreads as a tear falls onto the grass.
Through the Storm
I
Heavy perfume of crushed roses and tulips
blankets my nose as pruned lips meet my cheek,
whispering that everything will be okay.
I dive down the depths of my pocket
and pull out my mother's tumor.
It throbs in my hand as I watch
a red rivulet over my blue veins
as it races down my forearm,
pressing the pavement with a roseate stamp.
II
Hot white strokes upset the black sky to
thunderous boos and dribbling murmurs.
Heaving breaths enter the pistons in my lungs,
combusting a rage that no downpour can put out.
My toes eclipse the lip of the lake that my Mom took me to
when she gave me a RC boat three Christmases ago.
I scream over the thunder as I skip my bible across the lake,
it rides the storming waves
until I unabashedly watch it sink.
III
***Bargaining, have yet to create this stanza***
IV
Last Spring, a beautiful black bird dipped in ink
would perch on our kitchen windowsill every day.
My Mom would feed it seeds and laugh as the bird
trilled along the her humming.
I think the same bird tried to visit today.
My eager fingers tried to lift the dusty window to let him in
but my dad came into the kitchen, teetering with
a glass bottle in his hand. His heavy breath
and fist met my already hued face
until he wobbled back to his room.
I looked at my face in the bathroom mirror,
a flowing river through violaceous hills,
my eyes dense like a raven.
V
I graduated from high school today, I cheered
as I threw my cap into the heavens,
proudly watching it sway back to the ground.
I assure my friends that I will be at their parties
in a little while, I have to do something.
I exit my car and teeter towards my Mom's tombstone,
it's been a little while since I have visited her last.
I tell her that I graduated and I will be going to college in the fall.
I place a bouquet of roses and tulips against the stone that soaks in the sun.
A tiny fledging with feathers of the night battles the wind and loses,
fluttering until finally perching atop of my Mom's gravestone.
An incandescent smile spreads as a tear falls onto the grass.