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“There we go,” she says,
tartan wires scratching at my head.
“It’s ready now.”
Copper blanket air hangs
between us. “Don’t worry,” she says
like hot wax won’t burn
like cotton wool won’t choke.
But I’ve already played this game
I think, tying my shoulders together.
She finds my hand and I grab her wrist
- the sleeve feels purple.

“It’s alright,” she says,
but I can only hear snakes.
I squeeze her arm
and it’s comfortably green.
“Okay,” I lie.

“It’ll be over soon,” she says.
I used to like vipers, but now
their tongues keep circling my eyes.
“Don’t be scared.”

I try not to be, but black stripes say
I’m not a cobra and I never had been.
“Come on,” she says, not too impatient.

I wait. My chest expands
                                    – shutter-quick display
             – and I see it.
“Oh God,” I whisper, her eyes a snake-pit,
“purple, green and black.”
“Yes,” she sighs, and I breathe again.
The snakes have gone.
©2008-2009 ~DaughterOfSet
:icondaughterofset:

Author's Comments

Right.

Although I would prefer a reading without any background, maybe you need some on this one. When I was eight, I had my last eye operation - on both of my eyes. The surgeon had to use these special stitches on my eyes to keep them closed so the sunlight wouldn't damage new tissue. The stitches dissolved after a few days, and so I could finally open my eyes. Mum helped me by throwing a thick, tartan blanket on top of us both, encouraging me to try and open my eyes, although it was painful. The first thing that I saw was her purple and green top, complete with weird black stripes and swirls.

I'll never forget that moment. This poem is dedicated to Mum... without her support, I wouldn't be here now. Love you xxxx

Comments


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:iconmadgirl2003:
Now I thought it was a good poem before I read your background, now it makes super sense.

I really like the image of the snake's tongues on your eyes. Snake's are powerful images anyway, but this I can see it in my mind and it's quite scary lol. You can feel the tension right in at the word go and when at the end the "character" relaxes, so does the reader.

I really like it :) Much love to your mummy, she sounds amazing :hug: xXx

--
"Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength; loving someone deeply gives you courage." -Lao Tzu

:floating: Our friends are Angels who lift us to our feet when our wings have trouble remembering how to fly :floating:
:iconjadisofeternity:
you said you prefer a reaction not based on your explanation, so I have not yet read the explanation

I like this poem, I don't know what it is talking about, but I get the feeling it is ok to not know, so that unknowing doesn't bother me. I like all the colors used seemingly to represent feelings/moods/something other than colors, it give the impression of a specific type of confusion which I find interesting. this poem is very vivid and understandable without being really understandable at all (unlike this comment which is probably neither...it's hard to put into words what I like about this, which is basically what makes a good poem)

ok now I've read the explanation...

wow, what an interesting experience. one of the students in my class wrote a poem about eye surgery, and his was cool, too, though different , but similar in a way. from the two, I feel like I have more of a feeling of what it must be like to have eye surgery. something I had not thought much of before. It makes an interesting subject for poetry. (I still wouldn't want to have eye surgery though, hope I never have to)

--
-------Jadis///...
:shamrock: "with God all things are possible" :shamrock:

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November 28, 2008
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