Thursday, November 18, 2010

Supplicate soliloquy

an old post brought back to spotlight- For my mother

My supplicate soliloquy
was stifled yet again,
upstaged by your shadow.
I hear your voice in raindrops
tapping on my window,
knocking on my mind‘s door.

The redolent scent of your room
is wrapped around my neck
like a tarnished necklace
I refuse to throw out.

I prayed to forget your sadness
in the weight of that graying room,
where clouds of silence floated 
on the ceiling of your youth.
I remember you still, laying limp,
your mind chasing your frail body.

Time, that wretched beast
had taken you hostage,
stolen your wisdom
and drowned you in despair.

Helena Malheur © 2008


  1. nice...i really like the opening stanza...the voice tapping at the window like raindrops...great imagery...and sounds there...then it gets sad...the mind chasing the

  2. fabulous inagery in this "like a tarnished necklace
    I refuse to throw out"...your mind chasing your frail body, very sad. So difficult to see ones we love age and decline in health.This is something I have felt about my own mother but could not find the words. Thank you.

  3. Thank you Brian and Suzi - for reading and leaving thoughtful comments.

  4. Such a sad, heavy piece - I am sorry for your mother. It is always a tragedy to see how time does slowly undermine us all. A tragedy to see how it reduces one that we so love. Strong imagery and sensory descriptors evoke great emotion - the sadness in the decay. Thank you for this. It is a powerful, beautiful thing - and one that catches heavily at my own thoughts.

  5. Thank you cianphelan. yes, it is very difficult - I am glad to have writing as my outlet, it is cathartic to put emotions down on paper… I appreciate your comments.

  6. It is a heartbreak
    so many tears shed
    what a poignant poem Helen
    I know that there is healing from that pain

    hugs from the Moon

  7. Time, that wretched beast
    had taken you hostage,
    stolen your wisdom
    and drowned you in despair.

    love the lines,
    divine writing.


I welcome constructive critisism; I am not fragile so go for it -- tell me what you really think!