Friday, April 5, 2013

NaPoWriMo-Day 4

This is a bit of a cheat, a revision, but I was glad to get back to it.


I will be apprentice to this study for her. I mimic her gaps
for context, retrace the irrevocable meander of her logic for empathy
because I was born her fair to poor copy and she’s my polestar.  
Inside her: gaps and bursts. Most days the bursts
are heartbreaking. Other times we circle the same gaps,
and I try to be as I know she was with me once, our bleak
and common future to reverse the sphinx.
That you don’t know her is your misfortune. To know what she was, 
which was a hot planet’s core, a late summer’s best light
is a gift reserved for a small cohort; my mother will die
thinking I’m a dream or another version of herself           

Language was always between us, so my job is also to bear
the information for all of us. I seek it out as if it were a hunger,
then recite it back to her like a lullaby or a curse.
I tell my children her brain is pocked with illness, and I summon
up the softest image to tell the story. It’s a soft pink vulnerable jelly.
It is translucent and contains the future. In this reverie I hold it
in my hand and against a lamp because this is my form of intimacy.
My nails trace the brown spots that mark her losses. Beautiful
and sad and strange, I tell them because I need to make it into something else.  


  1. This is beautiful, Carmen. I had forgotten it was NaPo WriMO--will have to catch up. Take care, Heather Frankland

  2. I'm loving your poems here Carmen! I, too, have been trying hard to write something everyday (using Peter Brooks' POPS thing) for NaPoWriMo, and I know I shouldn't compare, but yours feel so full and vibrant next to mine! Excellent stuff here - and I love the backwards transcription idea from a day or 2 ago. I may use that on one of mine to see what turns out...