Memories of Mexico

  She sits  

Watching the willow trees

Dance on the breath that speaks to her

Pushing her thinning face onto the smudged glass

The only thing that keeps her from fully hearing

The soft mariachi melody

That has been haunting her for years

She screams clamping her hands over her ears

Laying 

In fetal position

This broken battered woman

Trembling like a quake

Weeping, wooing, chattering

In disbelief

She is plunging

Deep into an abyss

 of Forgotten souls of tormented sprits

She held onto her last peaceful thoughts  

 Her memories of Mexico

They were pure

Like her heart before they shattered her

 Subjecting her to their abuse and perversions

Before they let the poison sink into her

Smoky veins

From blue to black

Innocents to evil

Her bright smile faded over the mundane years

Over the moments of disappointment

There is no color

She is ash now

Her soft peach flesh burnt into

Demented, disfiguring scar tissue

Her sad face peers through the glass

In her heart

She is there on that Puerto Vallarta beach   

Standing

Her white summer dress blowing in the breeze

But she is here

  Wringing her aged hands

Shaking her bald head

She is here

But really she is already gone.

 

 

 

 

 

   

Reviews

[Chris]

I can "see" this one... have lived shaking hands and minds as well... damn - took me right back.

[Ed Hart]

yes, mexico is made of memories

[Satine]

Lovely, sad, lovely write. You had my attention immediately with these smoking lines;

"She sits
Watching the willow trees
Dance on the breath that speaks to her..."

Willow trees dancing on the breath....is a terrific line but then the piece only gets better and better. I loved that bit as well as this one;

"She is plunging
Deep into an abyss
of
Rotting souls
The last peaceful thing
Were her memories of Mexico.."

The only thing I could think to advise would be the addition of one or two lines setting a vivid scene of Mexico. I get that Mexico is where "The last peaceful thing" occured, NOW put me there...


Satine

[Kitty]

This is an unusual poem, but in a very good way. It's sad how times, people and places seem to change what we were and what we had. All we have are our memories...

Nicely done!

Josie
P.S Good luck in my contest :)