Reach into soul,
grab, struggle, tear away
slimy shark skin,
pulverized disc of gray harm,
throw on egg-shaped platter
Mother left for stabbing,
cutting, and
for holding the wicked
substances that survive slaughter.
She designed the shivering blob
from years not good enough,
from carcasses of worth,
her platter with ego canals
accommodated with straitjacket.
Platter purposed in red, hurry,
fill the shell, home of fear,
with warm purple fruits of love.
Praying for enough fruit, seeking
fruit, eradicating fear and her slime.
Wednesdays arrive so fast for the folks at One Shot Wednesday, but I would like to join again even though I am late already on a Tuesday. 🙂
stillfugue 
#1 by siubhan on February 1, 2011 - 12:37 pm
the imagery here disturbs and provokes… i like it. 🙂
#2 by Carl on February 1, 2011 - 7:36 pm
Thank you for your comment. I think my fears do disturb, that is for sure.
#3 by dustus on February 1, 2011 - 10:39 pm
“Truth” often strikes me as a bit grotesque, absurd, yet not without an element of beauty. Deep poem.
#4 by Carl on February 1, 2011 - 11:19 pm
Thank you for your comment. I appreciate it!
#5 by brian on February 2, 2011 - 5:31 am
this is in your face with imagery….i like that
#6 by Carl on February 2, 2011 - 7:16 am
Thank you, Brian. It is kind of you to comment! I appreciate it.
#7 by Jamie Dedes, all rights reserved on February 2, 2011 - 9:49 am
Assertive. Strong imagery. Most affecting. Good job.
#8 by Carl on February 2, 2011 - 11:52 am
Thank you! 🙂
#9 by Steve Isaak on February 7, 2011 - 3:05 pm
Wow-worthy, memorable piece. Excellent.
#10 by Carl on February 7, 2011 - 8:48 pm
Steve, Thank you for your comment. I appreciate it. I enjoyed a visit to your site and will be back.