Your disillusionment does not bring your promised liberation only further pain. Your search for succor, for water at dry wells, following specious creatures down pathways to revelation is naïve.
Draw up all the beauty, the gentleness, awe, kindness, and tender love into an elixir, a panacea, a bulwark. Yet the world, spinning mercilessly, its monumental forces quickly, blindly, overpowers your haven.
The world is a war; a tsunami; a Munchausen by Proxy mother who scrubs her child with bleach.
Look heart, at your companions as they make it through the days largely unaffected and calm. Shout, cry, or surrender – you are gossamer: torn, emotionally raw, and afraid. Stoic soldiers will put you to shame.
What can be left of you in the end, when every breath is gone, every word spoken, every feeling spent, every silken thread severed?
Chromapoetica 
Utterly exquisite writing Anna. It is a poem for the world, to heal what ails if we would open our eyes and really ‘see’ The last stanza, says it all.
Sadly beautiful.
Oh, you’ve gone and made my week sweet lady.
Oh Anna–what indeed is left, perhaps the best of who we are, perhaps the worst of who we are, but at that juncture, only the soul knows its direction–exquisite piece—
I love your response, thank you.
fug…the world is…tht stanza is just raw and oozing….but you have to clean the wounds to heal right you know….what is left in the end…what we live and plan until then…
I came up with my new favorite non-curse swear a couple of days ago, inspired by puppy treats: ‘duck jerky!’ It works :).
A beautiful write, Anna.
Ayala :)!
Wow hard write..beautiful, but tearing. I feel this often especially as things ravel out of control. Grateful for what order is left, but always knowing life is a tsunami in so many ways as the city pulls apart my yard while I keep my eye on the national hurricane center to make sure no storm is winding toward us this week. Well done.
Gay, when I worked in Health Care Risk Management I worked with the legal team to refuse care to a woman who had killed both her adoptive daughters by poisoning them for attention. She’d even been given a national award for being an exemplary parent, fighting for the medical rights of children that were difficult to diagnose (obviously this is before they found out about her Munchausen by Proxy behavior). She only served 5 years in jail.
Thank you Anna, this is raw, vivid, and emotionally distilling.
Thank you, Jane as I always appreciate your visits.
What a brilliant write – so many fine phrases, too many to pick a favourite or two but I did want to say how much I love the Munchausen by Proxy image which I think is truly inspired … I don’t think I’ve been exposed to your work before Anna; I hope to remedy that situation from here on.
http://nsaynne.wordpress.com/2012/09/12/like-pieces-of-confetti-souls-rained-down/
Very nice to meet you!
Anna, I felt this poem, late last night, when it dropped into my inbox..thank you for re-sharing..K
It’s wonderful to see you here, thank you.
Strong and wonderful writing, with much life experience behind its message. I especially noted the Munchausen mother…….fantastic metaphor.
Sherry, very nice to meet you!
outstanding write. Great ways chosen to illustrate. And Munchausen by proxy is just such a cool phrasing.
Fred, this means a lot to me.
hey anna
great to see you popped down from the mountain 😀
this is strong stuff! feels like you have really left it all on the page . . .
top write! 😀
It was the hair/philosophy joke :D. How do you come up with those zingers? Leaving it on the page, well, that’s the hope anyway.
“Look heart, at your companions as they make it through the days largely unaffected and calm.” I see this, but I do not believe it, do you? Disillusionment DOES hurt, but more pain? I love the play and the hurt in this poem because it is true.
No, I don’t either, but it is part of the litany of ridicule, the shaming. Part of the catharsis is to show it for its falsehood. Thank you Susan, that’s wonderful to hear.
“The world is a war; a tsunami; a Munchausen by Proxy mother who scrubs her child with bleach.”
Yes, indeed it is. And yet, we survive, no, we do more than that, we laugh and sing and dance and love, and that, that is what we leave behind. xo
You are an incandescent soul. xo
hope
Yes, it is alive and well. While not an inferno in the face of the world’s atrocities, a bright blue flame carried close to my being.