Song of Self #10

July 27, 2008
By Brittany Carmack SILVER, Lawrenceville, Georgia
Brittany Carmack SILVER, Lawrenceville, Georgia
6 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Lean muscle ripples transparent surface.
Sparks of liquid splash and spot the sizzling concrete
Waves morph white cotton candy clouds above as tile bounces golden rays below.
The run of liquid caressing, filing, swishing.
Toned arms slicing choppy pool
Flaming muscles burn for rest
Thirsty lungs gasp for air
Body curls into a flip and leads the final lap

Skin chilled in the outline of goo.
Heavy mud splattered my back and speckled my face and spotted my arms and congealed my hair
Oh great, here comes anoth… Splat!
Squishy mud between decorated toes
Georgia red wetness highlighting knees and below
Reaching for a handful to fly
Then unfolding up for…
Splat! Right in the ear.
She’ll get it for that one.
Bam! …Tackled!
Elbows painted with mud too
Splat! Splat! Splat!
Flinging, slinging, pitching.
Mud sings across open air toward unsuspecting faces
As the battle grows, expands, intensifies
Ruined shirt caked dry
Denying a mother’s call to help clean, rake, beautify the yard
In fear of getting dirty

Muggy, sweltering, moist Costa Rica evening
Last night of the youth camp
Everyone boistering fun songs. Joyous, crazy, blissful songs.
One newly saved boy, hand motions memorized, flows the movements along with me and the echo of music, enjoying himself.
Until he marks the eyes of friends mocking, poking, cutting him for his freshly found joy.
His rhythm halts and his tune falters.
My gaze captures his and mails a melody of confidence.
A heart song forever encouraged by a smile.

Skin pudging over pants portraying good health.
Then high school capsizes the confident image
And writes it ugly, fat, unlovable, worthless.
So first, delectables denied and refreshments refused.
The tire around the waist flattens
World’s ideal body form
No need to continue withdrawing, cutting, denying
But a crashing whirlpool already spinning, swirling, sucking.
Now snacks shunned and meals missed.
Flat tummy becomes concaved skeleton.
Middle casing of bone counts 12.
Legs lose power
And shoulders slice skin.
A once-stunning girl distorted, mutated, warped to a jumble of connected marrow.

A soundless hallway loses to a hacking cough through a door at the end
Granddaddy glides in and raises Grandmamma from soft pillows.
And probes for aches or pains
And comforts her weak hand with a pat
And sidles words into her ear
And plants gentle lips on her temple
And offers chilled water
Slight, shallow sips launch another coughing hysteria.
Recognition slivers into a distant, confused, adrift gaze
Garbled sounds escape between wilted lips hinted with rose
Goodbye with an embrace and an “I love you”
Wondering, hoping, praying for more.
But knowing, recognizing, mourning the loss soon to come,
As a well-lived,
well-loved life




The author's comments:
This poem is an imitation of Walt Whitman's "Song of Self #10". The poem describes 5 different events or situations that have affected or impacted my life.

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