CLOTHES THE DOOR
I caught you tiptoeing
out of burnt charcoal shadows
no longer sequestered
among the zipped
zebra-stripes
of my cross-worded life
triumphantly, you escaped
leapt toward me
jolting me backwards but
in practiced robotic reflex
I regained balance
although you
pounced on me:
an impotent, pathetic panther
tunnel vision safely shoves
you back into the
wretched
cramped folds
in the wrinkled
laundry of my mind
those feelings still hampered
by fairy-tale yearnings
and wishes harbored
when pretend anchors
rocked me horror-zonked-till-lea
until their chains
cut off my boxed circulation
for countless moons
my shorelines
eroded by arse-in-nick surf
and your selfish
sand-blasted crystals
in the time-bottle of
your gee-knee fantasy
I jarred your rubs
no Clorox bleached magic
can erase those stains
from the cycles you spun me through
with fresh water I ceased gagging and swallowing
tales spun from your puppet’s mouth
your ether-real presence
goosed me butt-toxic
no migraine honks
Nevermore!
I still dream of Downy feathers
again migrating towards me
tender touches, gleams from him
to hug me warmly
in that nest, turned noxious
not you, Never you
oh Witch of Wisk-dumb!
you’re poison deter-gent
clouded gloomy glass
irrevocably cracked and diss-torted
too often I stitched myself
in jagged repair
zigzagged open wounds
collected saline tears
I’m snow fresh pow(ed)her
sewed my own sea-quins
to cover your blistering bruises
although I know you
never fabricated
the reason for your departure
from the coat closet of
my heart hangars
garments droop in his absence
stray parts of me
still believe in unicorns
and Peter Pan
I skirt some issues
hem and haw
trailing like a solitary
piece of diss-carded yarn
twisting along
dust-laden floors
until renewed strength
cloaks me: freedom coats
not straight-jackets
I ceased crawling
halted searching
banished hoping
for you to change
reality slapped me
too many times
backhand when you
repeatedly and
viciously
lied to the world
I won’t ever use your mirror again
How dare you be puzzled!
© Lynne Eve Grossman
Lynne Eve Grossman is a visual artist and educator with degrees from The University of Virginia. She frequently uses her art and writing for social justice activism. Her poem “I Am a Palette” was published on Split this Rock’s website “Blog this Rock” in January of 2017 for the theme: poems of resistance, power, and resilience. Her writing has been published in anthologies by the National League of American Pen Women and featured on their website.
Powerful.
Thank you, Melissa.
Anger from hurt merged into a cohesive poem that is equal parts cathartic whilst remaining defiant. A solid poem full of quicksilver.
Yes, you saw straight into the heart of my poem. Thank you, Russell.
Your trademark clever wordplay weaves through these memories in a playful way that suggests time and distance from pain but just when you hint at a degree of acceptance – the word ‘viciously’ jolts the reader back to reality. The long strings of rich metaphor give an other-worldly air to a serious poem.
Paul, thank you for these complimentary and perceptive insights.