.
I am nobody; I have nothing to do with explosions.*
My lips curved to the angle of my contrition; my bones
dry like sandpaper — I refrain from facing the sight
of my slow-breaking; I shade this night, and map it out
on my sea-green scars. Their wig-donned smiles abandon
me, to gawk at my graven loss, paying a hefty load for
the skein of my destiny.
I am somebody; I have something to do with shattering.
My ears bend to the tremor of voices that hearken to
the shell-shore of Calypso — ‘Shame,’ they call out in
my cerulean-blue sequined nerves. ‘Pity’, they resound it
through their cherry-twine jowls. They bury me in stones
and pull at the weight of my guilt, avowing their fealty for
the passing of my duality.
I am nobody || I am somebody
to evanesce — I only need be.
.
*From Sylvia Plath’s Tulips
For With Real Toads’ Wordy Thursday, where we are starting off with a borrowed line from another poet’s work and Wordle 363 at The Sunday Whirl — a very raw third draft (with the closing couplet added to create a semblance of completion).
HA's Place 
You have been one of my favorite poets for a few weeks now. Your words draw out swift physical reactions.
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This is wonderful. I especially love “I am somebody / I have something to do with shattering. And that closing couplet is quite marvelous!
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“shell-shore of Calypso” has a beautiful cadence to it. Dark… so sad to be ridiculed
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to be ridiculed AND believe their taunts and hatred.
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No need to evanesce if you aren’t existing in the first place.
A lovely way to say “get an existence,” I’m glad you wrote. BTW, in Texas we say, “If you don’t have an oil well, get one.” Same logic in reverse.
..
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The strangest thing about humanity is the way so many love to hate each other as though competition and rivalry are essential for survival much like the most primitive of animals. Witnessing this is so many ways it appears we are a failed species especially today!
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The first line sets the sadness. I like how in the end, you know who you are.
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I have only just read this and we have chosen exactly the same poem – different first liners!
this is a very vivid and visceral poem, takes a lot of digesting as so packed with imagery –
“My lips curved to the angle of my contrition;” – perfect!
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Dear HA, how I miss your sea-boy melody! Take care my friend!
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This is a brilliant piece of prose poetry.. inspiration comes to a writer in strange ways. You worked on this, and it is quite signature of your style.
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kaykuala
abandon me, to gawk
at my graven loss,
paying a hefty load for
the skein of my destiny.
Classic way of saying it HA. One is usually faced with confusion when made aware of such circumstances. Very true!
Hank
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Brillliant writing, HA!
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I am somebody; I have something to do with shattering. ~
I like the feeling of this conversation – this unfolding between the first and second stanzas – the brooding feeling and unease, the stripping back to bones – “My lips curved to the angle of my contrition; my bones
dry like sandpaper”
this is really an incredible line – and I think it is the cornerstone of this piece – as is the very first line I copied here – these 2 are the elements of the conversation –
the duality that interconnects and plays out, a feuding battle that perhaps can never be won; and the other voices, insistent, persistent in their demands and cruelty – the impressing upon of being “one” – as opposed to all aspects and just the right to “be” …. yes, that is a very powerful ending – “to just be” ….
this is an interesting poem, and I can appreciate how you’ve worked with the prompt, and the struggles it can be, when one is inspired but trying to find your own words and not fall into the cadence, the pace, and the breath of influence of what first attracted you to it; I think you’re on your way here, with your attempt – and as long as you are pleased with your efforts, then it will all be, as it should …
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