Parrish - July 9, 2010

Across the table you lift the
corners of your mouth in a
wry smile sparing me the sight of
your edentulous upper gum,
souvenir of years sleeping on
the streets of Atlanta.

Sunken coals, eyes dilated by
drugs to keep you sane reveal a
distant twinkle so soon gone I
wonder if it were ever there.

Tan in spite of long days in
hospital, drugged, alone, sedated
iv bags hanging over your head
needles stinging your arms, streams of
of fire coursing through your veins
only a TV to pierce the
tightly packed gloom of
isolation.......

....you pick at your food.

Tucking your hand under the table,
you hide the hideous hole, the
wound surrounded by scarlet skin,
a small pocket of pus at the
center of a tender target
born of the poison that could have
killed you.

A Brown Recluse

Tears collect in my lower lids
slide down my cheeks, splash shame
onto my plate. You, the wounded,
reach across, take my hand in
yours, stroke it softly, smile your sad smile.

“Tranquilo, Mama, tranquilo.”



© Claudia Schlottman July 24, 2010
Revised February 13, 2011

Of Butterflies and Hurricanes

This is an older poem I'm linking to Pot Luck Monday!





Tiny butterlies flap their wings
high in my chest, in the back
of my throat, sending sparks up the
sides of my neck, prickling my scalp.
They spread into my chest, growing
into sparrows or wrens stealing
the space where I breathe, filling the
hole where my heart was with chaos.
I breathe long and slow to settle
the havoc, but to no avail.
The pounding penetrates to my
back where an eagle spreads his wings
bruising my rib cage, clawing my
wounds, pecking at my pain.
A hurricane, the energy
breaches my diaphram and roils
my gut, leaving me heaving with
nausea, tingling with thorny sweat
gasping for air.

© cj Schlottman 07/10/10

My Heart's in Lost and Found

My heart's in Lost and Found
just where I do not know.
I had it with me when
you died, or did I? Maybe
you took it on your final
journey, forgot to send it back.

It was yours alone, for sure
as I gave it to you those
many years past in the heat
of our new love, the fire
of passion and youthful lust.

I miss my heart as I
do you, my one true love.
Please come back and bring it.
Oh, I know you can't do
that. You can't come back, but
could you leave my heart in
my dream one night, a kiss
out of darkness on my breast,
the flutter of its beating restored?


Just a note: I participate in a meme called Six Word Fridays, and each Friday we are given a word with which to work. It's the brain child of Melissa at http://www.makingthingsup.com/six-word-fridays/ Last week's word was found. We may do with it as we wish - write a six word sentence using the word, or, as I have chosen to do, we can write a poem with six-word lines. I have tried unsuccessfully to link this post to Six Word Fridays, and I apologize for not having a button for it. I will keep trying to link up from here. In the meantime, you can Google Six Word Fridays and find it there! This little poem was my entry last week.