A Woman's Work

[hillwalker]

A WOMAN’S WORK

Eight mirrors in this house
I’ve counted every one
I used to polish, spit and shine
as if I owned the sky inside each frame
until reflections stared back out
more crisp and focused than the world

life turning inside out
each frame enclosing envelopes of daylight
windows mute
magnetic light

I thought to smash them all
wipe out this peristaltic shame
this churn of twisting grinning guilt
but that would merely multiply the pain
each sliver sharp as glittered claws
the threat of blood-spill
shards of someone else’s marriage vows

I want no part of this
the gastric band of torture
claustrophobic weight
the red hot line of anger running through the wiring
twisted tight behind my eyes

what I remember floats like specks of fire in the sunlight
anger pushing fear to fight-back
quarrel channelled
through a single shaft of outrage
to a stab of stainless steel
a punch that never pulls
a skewer through his gurgling core

his breath
comes from two places now
a purring like a kitten suckling milk
as fast….. and frantic…..
yet there’s not much blood
except this grin of red that smears my cuff

then when I put the knife back down
beside the bread board on the kitchen table
I remember why I picked it up
no matter.....
two slices less to butter.

H

[Bar22do]

A WOMAN’S WORK

Eight mirrors in this house
I’ve counted every one
I used to polish, spit and shine
as if I owned the sky inside each frame
until reflections stared back out
more crisp and focused than the real world

life turning inside out
each frame enclosing envelopes of daylight
windows mute
magnetic light

I thought to smash them all
wipe out this peristaltic shame
this churn of twisting grinning guilt
but that would merely multiply the pain
each sliver sharp as glittered claws
the threat of blood-spill
shards of someone else’s marriage vows

I want no part of this
the gastric band of torture
claustrophobic weight
the red hot line of anger running through the wiring
twisted tight behind my eyes

what I remember floats like specks of fire in the sunlight
anger pushing fear to fight-back
quarrel channelled
through a single shaft of outrage
to a stab of stainless steel
a punch that never pulls
a skewer through his gurgling core

his breath
comes from two places now
a purring like a kitten suckling milk
as fast….. and frantic…..
yet there’s not much blood
except this grin of red that smears my cuff

then when I put the knife back down
beside the bread board on the kitchen table
I remember why I picked it up
no matter.....
two slices less to butter.

H

It's so powerful, frightening. Very effective, good. I enjoyed and re-read your poem a few times. Need time to absorb it (and it's worthwhile absorbing!).

Especially strong were (to me):

"the gastric band of torture",
"what I remember floats like specks of fire in the sunlight".

The cooling anti-climatic end reassures and brings back to regular reality and control of events! I don't pretend to have deciphered all the clues, but it is an over all masterpiece on, as I read it, frustration and helpless anger in relation.

Thanks for this experience hill. A wonderful work. Best.

[PrinceMyshkin]

It's a dreadful, frightening - and masterful - poem, but would you consider dropping "real" from the last line of the first stanza, for the sake of the meter but, also, because it might intensify the sense of a dislocated consciousness?

[hillwalker]

Thanks Bar - you are such a generous critic, always seeing the best in ones work

and Prince - for the sake of meter I felt 'real' might be reprieved because of the bisyllabic way I pronounce it in my native twang 'ree-yul', but to enhance the feeling of dissociation you are absolutely right so it has now gone, as if by magic.


H

[Hawkman]

"each sliver sharp as glittered claws"

What a brilliant line. You seem to be running on an intermittent theme of domestic violence. It's a powerful piece, hill, but If I would criticise anything it would be the length. I think it could be tighter, as in a couple of places there is an element of repetition. Also, with such powerful imagery, less is more I feel. But this may just be my personal preference.

Best, H

[hillwalker]

Thanks Hawk -
You seem to be running on an intermittent theme of domestic violence - you're partially right.

I'm finding that a good deal of my writing is focussed on 2 main areas: exploring the darker underbelly of 'life' or exposing the more bizarre, tongue-in-cheek side.

Too much of either is not good for the soul though (or the reader!).

And as for this one's length - I admit it could do with tightening up half way through. Thanks again

H

[Skia]

Ooohh.. No warburtons' there Hill :P

I also picked up the theme of domestic violence,
I liked this peice, on of my favourites by you hill - partially because I could understand this one! Your other work takes me a while for me to decypher! Probs because i'm not that clever when it comes to analysing things ;) But I'm working on it!! :D

[hillwalker]

Ooohh.. No warburtons' there Hill :P

Doh (or should that be dough?)

I should have read this before replying on your 'Just a Thought' piece shouldn't I?

and thanks btw for your generous response

H

[Skia]

Haha, Clever use of a pun there Hill :)
Hehe, and your welcome :D