MIA

 

.........

 

.............. 

 

 

 

gazing past the moon and stars

 

 my eyelid begins to close

 

as i reflect back to where my soul was left,

 

in the bottom of that dumpster,

 

among the kitchen drainage and waste

 

of slimy, rancid and maggot ridden rubbish,

 

swept away from a darkened, smokey room,

 

laden with guilt-stricken, human auric toxicity,

 

a mother lying spread eagle 

 

upon a bare and blood-stained wooden table

 

from the local goodwill store,

 

clad with nothing but a worn and well used sheet,

 

a metal hanger tearing the walls

 

of her vaginal vault,

 

i am erased in a moment she took to

 

her grave,

 

and remain a secret

 

that never died.


............


guardando oltre la luna e le stelle

 

  la mia palpebra comincia a chiudersi

 

Mentre rifletto di nuovo a dove la mia anima è stato lasciato,

 

sul fondo di quel cassonetto,

 

Tra il drenaggio cucina e rifiuti

 

di viscido, rancido e larva spazzatura cavalcato,

 

spazzato via da una buia stanza fumosa,

 

carico di sensi di colpa al panico, tossicità aurico umano,

 

una madre che giace spread eagle

 

su un tavolo di legno nudo e insanguinato

 

dal negozio avviamento locale,

 

rivestito con nient'altro che un foglio logoro e ben utilizzati,

 

un gancio di metallo strappo i muri

 

della sua cupola vaginale,

 

sto cancellato in un attimo ha preso a

 

la sua tomba,

 

e di rimanere un segreto

 

che non è mai morto.


...............


mirando más allá de la luna y las estrellas

 

  el párpado comienza a cerrarse

 

Al reflexionar de nuevo a donde mi alma se fue,

 

en el fondo de ese contenedor,

 

entre el drenaje de residuos de cocina y

 

de viscosa, rancio y gusanos basura montado,

 

barrido de un cuarto ahumado oscuro,

 

cargado con la culpa del pánico, toxicidad aura humana,

 

una madre que miente spread eagle

 

sobre una mesa de madera desnuda y manchada de sangre

 

de la tienda de fondos de comercio locales,

 

vestida con nada más que una hoja desgastada y bien utilizados,

 

un gancho de metal rasgando las paredes

 

de su cúpula vaginal,

 

estoy borrarse en un momento en que llevó a

 

su tumba,

 

y seguir siendo un secreto

 

que nunca murió.

 

 

 

 

 traduzione da Inglese a Italiano eSpagnolo da Google

Music by 'Live'

Foto de la web

 

 

 

11:17 PM 7/24/2013 ©

..........

 

 

 

 

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Abortions of the past hopefully stay in the past.

Aborti del passato si spera rimanere nel passato.

 

The photo is not of my creation. I got it from the web. It fits perfectly.

 

Inspired by: http://www.postpoems.org/authors/ashes_twisted/poem/964071

 

 

.

View nightlight1220's Full Portfolio
Morningglory's picture

Wow, nightlight. This was

Wow, nightlight. This was really powerful! I don't have much to say beyond that. Just left me with a heavy sensation.


Copyright © morningglory

nightlight1220's picture

Understandable...it leaves me

Understandable...it leaves me very weighted down and i wrote the darn thing. Thanks for reading. :-/ 

♡♥♡


...and he asked her, "do you write poetry? Because I feel as if I am the ink that flows from your quill."

"No", she replied, "but I have experienced it. "

 

iwonderwho's picture

I wonder, what happens to

I wonder, what happens to their souls? Do the women realize that they just cut off a life by its roots, by choice, by will? a life that was a gift, that not everyone receives, that could have gone on to do great things. 

nightlight1220's picture

I don't know. I don't

I don't know. I don't judge.

My concern is safety and individual life paths.

~peace~

............


...and he asked her, "do you write poetry? Because I feel as if I am the ink that flows from your quill."

"No", she replied, "but I have experienced it. "

 

bishu's picture

Probably an ode in memory of the unfortunate unborn babies

Excellent nl1220.Probably an ode in memory of the unfortunate unborn babies. Very,very unfortunate nl1220. Where does all the mother's love go ? I wonder? Maybe born out of a moment of love or infatuation... only the mothers can tell. Murder most foul.Stinks of selfishness and greed. Gary and scary !! Animals are better in this respect (in my view). What an angle !!!!! "human auric toxicity".... "slimy,rancid, and maggot ridden rubbish" I wonder if the baby was dead when it reached the trashbin ! Maybe such abortions still go on undercover. Who can tell !! Sorry for my emotions on this.Please excuse.


©bishu 

 

nightlight1220's picture

Thank you for reading this

Thank you for reading this very difficult reality of life, Bishu, and for your comments as well. It is a very very difficult subject for most people, but not to be ignored or passed aside--I would have to embrace any remark on this at all. I am not pro-abortion in the slightest, but I do have concerns about how 'pro-life' becomes 'pro-slavery, war, poverty, greed, and suffering'. ~peace to you---peace to us all~

.............


...and he asked her, "do you write poetry? Because I feel as if I am the ink that flows from your quill."

"No", she replied, "but I have experienced it. "