Monday, June 15, 2015

Painful Thread

My favorite form of poetry is the terzanelle.

I was first introduced to the terzanelle my senior year of college when I took a poetry class. We were tasked to write one, and it took so much time and I was so meticulous; you have to be when forming the lines. What I created was amazing -- it spoke my soul's truth and hidden shame. I received an A in the class, and I believe it was because of the poem.

I recently began writing another terzanelle, but it can get frustrating making every line just right. So, I decided in the meantime, I'll repost the terzanelle I wrote in college.

Painful Thread
Finally, I scream for what should have been.
Acquired in my first breath, still seems I’m
tied like a puppet with your painful thread

woven in womb from the tightrope you walk.
Stranded and frayed from your needle-sharp voice
acquired in my first breath. Still seems I’m

knotted with sorrow, for no other choice
I rot with the moon’s fading strand of light,
stranded and frayed from your needle-sharp voice.

Delivered, then bounded to all that’s foul,
dripping with tears, Mom you strangle my soul.
I rot with the moon’s fading strand of light

that flickers once more before bowing its head.
Reaching the end of entangled delight
dripping with tears. Mom, you strangle my soul.

Wrapped within layers of unanswered plight,
finally I scream for what should have been.
Reaching the end of entangled delight,
tied like a puppet with your painful thread.

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