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The terrible tears have all been wept
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You were always an empty street,
lit with pale yellow lamps,
never a fellow traveler.
I asked you to take my hand
and walk me home
and you answered with bones
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the carcass of autumn,
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Holes,
holes in everything, even bones,
even minds become soiled doilies,
and the flightless wings
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Long ago, I must have been
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On the last day that I had a mind,
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On the last day that I had a body,
a crone with black smoke wings
instead of arms
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I knelt and cradled her
against my stammering heart,
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rocked the death baby.
I want some storm before the calm,
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My house was my body
and it was filled with children.
Now the rooms are washed shapeless
by rain and failure.
As ashes fall and water rises,
all of the dolls are broken or lost,
all of the babies are small and smaller bones youtube videos zu mp3 downloaden.
Shame is never a single voice,
but a shrouded chorus of small, pale faces,
whispering to me from inside a smeared mirror:
“What you called healing, called mother-wisdom
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What you called love, was pride.”
Time is not smooth and even everywhere;
there are places where it thickens and slows.
I will lie down there, in that tale,
in that forest,
as tiny cold hands bloom
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I will endure the agony
of their terrible forgiveness.
Even when they are pressed into my mouth,
I will not swallow the healing leaves of death
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This piece has three “rooms”, each expressing a different possible outcome for the tale. In the “Hunter and the Wolf”, viewers may place an iPhone inside the tv set, click on a YouTube video and see what the Hunter and Wolf are watching app games herunterladen.
Red Riding Hood and the Wolf
Once I saw what was coming,
why did I do nothing to stop it,
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Her grass stained cape, her wine breath
should have been evidence enough.
Why did I tell myself
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Her lies were so young
and so clumsy:
“Grandma is getting worse,
She won’t remember my visits
five minutes after I leave.”
Now my only daughter is truly gone bedienungsanleitung herunterladen.
Fled to the wolf’s lair?
To a distant village?
All night the forest branches creak
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Why did I never tell her
that my own hood
was moss colored velvet,
that her father
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Grandma and the Hunter
Alarmed by the animal sounds from inside,
Red Riding Hood and her Wolf
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The Hunter and I laughed
at the little O’s
made by their mouths and eyes.
My granddaughter slammed the door,
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I could never have explained to her
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Run and then lie down
in the wild, cold woods
in the snow dazzled noon
with your Wolf, my dear girl.
I will stay here,
bedded with my Hunter,
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The Wolf and the Hunter (In this one, viewers may place an iPhone inside the tv set, click on a YouTube video and see what the Hunter and Wolf are watching.)
Now that Grandma
is a warm lump in my belly,
now that the red hood
is a bright flame
flickering, fleeing
into the forest,
come to me call of duty black ops download kostenlos vollversion deutsch pc.
I will praise your hunter’s body,
only slightly less furred
than my own.
We are both forest creatures.
We are not frightened
of one another’s teeth,
different and the same,
of one another’s sharp cries,
of our shared wildness
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Once upon a time, there was a mother whose heart had grown on the outside of her body .net 4.8 herunterladen. Every little breeze of her children’s joy made it tremble and their smallest woes caused it to twist and thud with pain.
All day long her arms were filled with children, like sweet bouquets jitsi download mac. She built them a house entirely out of flowers and every single morning, she made cake.
Many years of mornings and small birds passed. At last, she had only the memory of children’s voices, like bright scattered candies, and finally, enormous, mindless Death came and ate her up wsus client error while downloading.
Her children waved goodbye as the flower house fell down, but most of them remembered it for quite a long time.
Into how many fragments
can a heart be broken
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utterly into dust?
What manner of tender
vernal mist
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How does the blunt
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Once, long ago, in a faraway land
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She lived in a tower of rust, where all she had to eat
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One night, as the brass gong of the moon
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Rags snapped,
flapped,
and became wings.
Her fall became flight
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Now she lives in a mossy forest
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As happy, at least, as one can be
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“The Madwoman’s Granddaughter– History of the Drowned Cities: the Granddaughter Speaks” (Page One)
We are all survivors of a personal Atlantis, all of us risen from the sunken continent of childhood tableau download kostenlos. Even yet, I find myself inundated by remembrance, seduced by the drowned sound of bells still tolling from beneath the waves. Sometimes I return in dreams, the lifeless body of a child melting out of my arms as my face breaks the surface and I waken vob kostenlos herunterladen. The South is another sort of dream, suggestive and persistent, a country composed equally of the survivors of dreams and the drowned. After many years of terror and self discipline, I allow myself to live just at the edge, in the hills overlooking the turquoise waters of art, memory and madness herunterladen.
When I am dead
you may tell the story
of how, in a land not far away,
a woman’s torment became rage
and her rage grew flesh, drew breath,
and in the night
crept down a witching tree
in many fox bodies,
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Scores of sharp teeth
ripped open silken cocoons
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Exhausted by houses
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her body at last broke free,
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From high above
the grasping maples,
she began to see how
the earth curved,
how it sheltered
the little nursling moon
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how stars stabbed
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For a little while longer
she would recall the exact, humid weight
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against her shoulder,
then, the fever of exploding nebulae
burned away the memory
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