To the voices in my head,
Castaways from my past
Who offer wisdom and practical advice
In navigating the spectacle called my life,
The Sunday School teacher reminding me
The best way to find resolution
Is by kneeling in prayer,
Granny passing along her recipe
For crisp oatmeal cookies dotted with raisins,
That sweet boy from my junior year
Who told me I had eyes like wild honey
And a smile that was even sweeter.
These voices gave me wise counsel
And much needed encouragement,
Adding depth to my thoughts
As I would contemplate impending decisions.
All was peaceful until you came on board.
Vain and cruel, your taunts still echo
Just below the conscious surface,
Whispers of “whore” as I put on my makeup,
Criticisms of my weight despite my dieting success,
Admonitions to sit down and shut up
Instead of standing and letting my voice ring out.
It’s been twenty years since your arrival,
Your presence in my head far outlasting
Your physical presence in my life.
The other voices have awakened
A long-dormant resistance in me.
Your derisions will no longer make me reel.
The tribe has spoken:
Get off their island,
And get the hell out of my head.
11 comments:
This is brilliant! I love it.
What an excellent use of the wordle words.
Wow, Mary, I read this entire poem this morning; and even though I had done the wordle myself I didn't realize it was done from the wordle words. I love the strength in this poem, despite the painful experiences recalled. And this person definitely needs to be banished from your 'island' forever!
Powerful! What a unique twist the wordle words have taken in this excellent poem! Well done!
Amen! This is brilliant, Mary. I love it. A strong voice underscores your passionate message.
Gorgeous, on so many levels. I love the opening lines and then the description of the early voices; I am moved and angered by the voice in the second stanza; and I was surprised and delighted by the ending. Brava!
margo
Oh, the dark side becomes you. What a fabulous poem.
Sara
The speaker seems to have the final word at the very end. Doesn't she?
A Baker’s Dozen
A 2nd Baker’s Dozen
I love the worm turned stories. This poem was magnificent.
Love the way it build up to a gloriously angry crescendo! Brilliant.
Fantastic, Mary! All of us who battle the negative, critical voices in our heads can take courage from your narrator and vote those suckers off the island. Thanks for sharing this empowering piece.
What a fascinating way to show the power of tribal thought.
I love her strength and beauty.
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