In the name of Proserpina (Mature)

[sicksoul]

Injecting obsidian, so that shards
tickle my trickling veins, I wandered
down wooded path, past stolen embrasure
Where Autumns song dueled Springs measure,
Both lost on the phantom whisper of battlefields-
one more bled out silence

Sipped,
my bodies "Sex on the Beach" blood
tasted of chocolate milk and promiscuity,
It practiced what was preached
unwillingly

Is penance sacrilege?
Self-mortification in the name of..
Proserpina..
We were both force-fed seeds
necrotizing pomegranate pomes sewn
So I cannot return
(not so fortunate as Her)

Bandages mummify transgressions,
Carved in shape with mans confessions,
harmonic progressions of heart beats bleat,
Sing goat-song symphonies of false peace
Bled to w(h)et the throat
Fed to nourish the growth of
[space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space]silence

[ladylilith]

I love this. Proserpina is the Roman form of Persephone right? (I'm better with Greek than the Roman, so sorry if that's wrong!) but origins aside, this holds a heavy kind of narrative and commentary, and for me, it held something quintessentially important about gender politics, and how women can be forced into long stretches of pain, and labour, (see where I'm going with this? ^.^ ) and it's still considered the natural order of things. I thought the ending lines were especially powerful, because mobility and also freedom, cannot be truly met without a voice. It's as though women can be seen to cultivate silence.

Yipes! I waffled on a bit. I probably missed your actual point, but it certainly captured my imagination, and got my brain working. Thanks for sharing it!

Lily^^

[SwingingPistol]

Ummm.. I can't even try to live up to Lily's comment.. she has such a way with words. I can, however, say this was an amazing OM, and one of my favorites from you of all time.. you penned this beautifully. I'm definitely bookmarking this. It's amazing, I'm speechless.

SP xoxo

[everhopeful]

The feeling of inescapability in this, among other emotions, is absolutely brutal. So much of it happens through sudden changes of phrasing and additional details which turn the context into something seedy and violently impactful. I do feel like I can identify some common strands throughout this poem, and while I don't feel it is necessary to explain them I will say that the sense of disgust is palpable enough to penetrate the screen.

[Windsend]

Bandages mummify transgressions,
Carved in shape with mans confessions,
harmonic progressions of heart beats bleat,
Sing goat-song symphonies of false peace
Bled to w(h)et the throat
Fed to nourish the growth of
[space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space]silence

This last stanza is outstanding. A little dark, but very well written. There is a lot of history behind secret practice and ritual. If and when they are ever found out, in the past they have done just that; Silenced their problems. Thanks for posting.

[allmirth]

The power of this piece has struck me silent. Congratulations on a well deserved Spotlight.

Thanks much for sharing,
Mirthy