An Un certain irony -- Poetry Grace and Insanity

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Date Posted: 12/11/04 11:57:40pm
Author: Leisa*)
Subject: An Un certain irony

An Un certain irony

I know now I was numb
and never felt the needle
prick the skin
or penetrate the muscle

but after the assault
that can only equate
being raped with a baseball bat,
who could feel a thing?

it slowed the effusion;
hastened an adulterated aging

Wednesday is 40 years since Daddy died
Wednesday I get my biopsy results

with details to be ironed out

I was 8, he was 43
what's the math..
the law of averages..
the balance of cancer..

the stench of disease
that chokes
one kidney at a time

I see the flat steel table
the small square window
someone lifted me up
just in time
to witness the cobalt treatment
force his 6'2" frame
to jump, a mock seizure
I would come to call it

I remember the smell of their room
Mom would later paint lavender
with matching sheets, comforter,
and a flowing peignoir
that I would play dress up
in and pretend
to be rich, famous
and loved

She laid on a purple satin pillow
to keep her perfectly coiffured hair
from getting mussed
as if the sticky liquid dressing wasn't enough

I see the lights of the ambulance
that last time,
the sterile hospital room
with its dingy feel
and sallow sweat soaked sheets

My memory severed long ago
yet some things are crystal clear
while others fade into a myriad of mist
and mystery

a subconscious nod
a plot to solidify

as dreams unfold

Vinnie was driving me
through an unknown town

the beach with the unclear
painted letters named
the ocean floor

Inside with the top down
a sudden breeze blew the spray
covering us in saline

The stores were just a blink away
I commented on how much closer
they were than I'd thought

don't go looking for metaphors
in the veins of visions that haunt
sleep when sleep has been ever evasive

My favourite line
"I'll sleep when I'm dead"
takes on a holy shroud
as I kneel tomorrow to make
peace, make penance,
make sorrow something survivable
for those I am bound to
leave behind

Maybe this isn't my colour
with so many fatal calls
I've escaped
eventually my number comes
and even I won't be able to stop
the abysmal schism of breakers

Leisa*)
12.11.04Š

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Replies:

Re: An Un certain irony -- Dimon, 12/12/04 1:05:58am
- Re: An Un certain irony -- Leisa*), 12/22/04 6:15:21pm
- P/S/ -- Leisa*), 12/22/04 6:28:06pm

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><font face="papyrus" size="2"><font color="#cccccc"> >An Un certain irony > >I know now I was numb >and never felt the needle >prick the skin >or penetrate the muscle > >but after the assault >that can only equate >being raped with a baseball bat, >who could feel a thing? > >it slowed the effusion; >hastened an adulterated aging > >Wednesday is 40 years since Daddy died >Wednesday I get my biopsy results > >with details to be ironed out > >I was 8, he was 43 >what's the math.. >the law of averages.. >the balance of cancer.. > >the stench of disease >that chokes >one kidney at a time > >I see the flat steel table >the small square window >someone lifted me up > just in time >to witness the cobalt treatment >force his 6'2" frame >to jump, a mock seizure >I would come to call it > >I remember the smell of their room >Mom would later paint lavender >with matching sheets, comforter, >and a flowing peignoir >that I would play dress up >in and pretend >to be rich, famous >and loved > >She laid on a purple satin pillow >to keep her perfectly coiffured hair > from getting mussed >as if the sticky liquid dressing wasn't enough > >I see the lights of the ambulance >that last time, >the sterile hospital room >with its dingy feel >and sallow sweat soaked sheets > >My memory severed long ago >yet some things are crystal clear >while others fade into a myriad of mist >and mystery > > >a subconscious nod >a plot to solidify > >as dreams unfold > >Vinnie was driving me >through an unknown town > >the beach with the unclear >painted letters named >the ocean floor > >Inside with the top down >a sudden breeze blew the spray >covering us in saline > >The stores were just a blink away >I commented on how much closer >they were than I'd thought > > don't go looking for metaphors >in the veins of visions that haunt >sleep when sleep has been ever evasive > >My favourite line >"I'll sleep when I'm dead" >takes on a holy shroud >as I kneel tomorrow to make >peace, make penance, >make sorrow something survivable >for those I am bound to >leave behind > >Maybe this isn't my colour >with so many fatal calls >I've escaped >eventually my number comes >and even I won't be able to stop >the abysmal schism of breakers > >Leisa*) >12.11.04Š
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