Stent
By Kilb50
- 5001 reads
(i)
Her ears popped
and the lights
went out.
An unsettling chain
cauterised her chest.
(ii)
I drove through the night,
ate-up rain-sodden miles,
saw Diana the Huntress present herself
in a tumbler of ice.
My mouth was parched. I pulled over
to the side of the road,
shivered, indulged
for an hour or more
of this heavenly beauty
intoxicated by the illusions
and uproars
of a not-so-perfect existence.
When I arrived she was sitting up in bed
dressed in white - the eternal mother
oxygenated, newly-stented
the blood-pipes and bags leeching
past terrors
and yet
no longer immortal.
I fed her, of course,
did my best to soothe the tumultuous ache
that had befallen her,
leaving only when the scents and fragrances
of her hand-maidens overpowered me
and the wailing of the afflicted
unnerved us both.
I returned to my mother's house
cleared her garden of grubs and leaves.
I slept on her bed,
washed and ironed her linen.
It was the least I could do -
I told the neighbour as much,
a squill-headed postman
tattooed to the hilt,
and he confirmed that I was a good son
worthy of her love.
(iii)
On the seventh night
my first wife paid a visit
brought food, lit a fire,
re-kindled my own remorseful heart
which had lain exhausted
and in pitiful disregard
for so many years.
“Unzip your chest” she said
“and show me the place of our assignation."
I did so - laid out
the clogged architraves of my heart
the siege-engines, tendrils
and chambers therein
all rusted and dripping
their own bitter worth.
Saddened by what we saw we lay together
for the first time in thirty years
on an old brass bed
that had long seen its best.
(iv)
In the morning, when I collected her,
the air was clear and fresh.
We travelled home
from the not-so-fragrant hospital
to reap our reward.
She had been fitted with a new heart
and her bed linen was newly-laundered.
My own heart had been ironed, pulled tight
re-stented in its own way.
(v)
When a fire is re-kindled.
Diana the Huntress will sing.
As I drove to my own house she sang
and the rain washed away.
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Comments
That is quite simply
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Pick of the day
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Kilb, haven't read your work
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I'm not a big poetry fan,
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Fabulous Kilb - it feels
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new Kilb50 Enjoyed this
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This is good, and I don't
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I don't have the words to say
I don't have the words to say how wonderful this is ..
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A truly stunning piece of
A truly stunning piece of work, the sort of poetry that can make you want to put pen to paper immediately or never write again because it could never match up.
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