voodoo doll

Momma

someone fairer than you

and even colder

must have made a voodoo doll of me

during that first sallow bloom in our summer garden

when all the kids in the house got thiner

wearing tight little knots in their bellies

O,how you wept momma

and how our tiny nanny had her eyes

sagged out,she cried too

but nothing could fatten us up

no tears or extra shares of pudding

only thing swelling up were you

with a baby brother that I never get to see.

It was then i suppose

when i had my first shot at nightmares

dreams static,indulging and malevolent

as if in a recurring Oresteia of some sort

your belly always so full and purple,

delphinium purple

and our wrists drooping down

like tiny brown sticks

At end of it

perhaps in the cellar

or some secret room i might not know of

I got my voodoo doll sewed up

white and bald,badly stitched

with living eyes and twisted limbs

with a dead mass of crumpled lips

and in some old dreaded yellow book

it had been written

that girls from this house

will come back no matter how hard they try to run

 even if they dont leave any trails

they will  return with silver eyes and shattered hearts

perhaps thats the reason

i keep coming back to the same purple room,

to the same dreams

even if i dont know which role am i supposed to do.

Lavinia or Christine

Christine or Lavinia

anyhow it doesn't matter.

we might have different lines

and gestures and cues,Momma

but it will end the same way.

This house is our death,it has always been.

Reviews

[Rossen]

I enjoyed the skill and imagery crafted in this write!

[OT]

oh this is a stunning write - sad, poignant, fated even - but brilliant nonetheless - the voodoo doll sitting there with its contorted arms - revisiting memories and then the killer last line - "this house is our death, it has always been" woah! nice!

[Tim]

Your always consistent in your writing. Always excellent and moving. 100/100

[Pebbles]

Wow ...this is just brilliant I love it well done

[Chris Smith Welshpoetcs]

All I can say is awesome, I love this.

[Linear]

Deep dark and stark........swollen purple bellies tied up in knots, a house of no escape and nightmare dreams that offer little comfort, oh momma come to me, please oh please dont leave.........A sad tale, even a bad tale, but a well written poem thats for sure, Doc you amaze me :O)

[Jasmine]

you're creative capacity never ceases to amaze me... abject poverty, suffering and death, you've expressed as if you've known it. "This house is our death, it always has been." ...heartbreaking.
95/100

[jenniewren (J.W. Bouwma..]

wow. wow. this is an incredibly evocative piece. it feels old and murky.. like hidden relatives in attics or that spooky house waiting in a dead end street, half-succumbed to the swamp's encroaching grip.. powerful.

[Emily B]

this is so amazing . . . I am stunned by your brilliance

[Chloe..Across the Unive..]

Wonderful writing. Very dark it is ,, so matter of fact it seems you say,
"Momma

someone fairer than you

and even colder

must have made a voodoo doll of me"

And the poem gets darker.. using the word purple .. always associate purple with beauty.. makes me rethink.. This poem is chilling~ but very entertaining.

Chloe