Saturday, April 16, 2011

Hunger never sleeps


My hunger dreams were always scrappy
carrots, slender- tender
ribs charred to tenderness
blood-staining  juice  on
creamy heaps of hot potatoes
piled high just out of  reach.
Only, I was heavy as an iron beam
too cumbersome to move.


I had no memory of how I ended up so failed
on the  frozen fields where I lay  
pinned down,fever -hot with crisping rancor.  
It was the babies wailing for a while in
their soiled skin smell  that made me move.
I  scooped both of them up, one for each tit,
held them tight to my body, them
rooting and slipping out of their messy clothing,
ready to lip
their way out of hunger and cold.
Then, all warm,
we dreamt of sugar canes 
for our sweet- juicy- sloppy lips.
My limbs, still heavy with sleep
kept shutting the door
to keep the wind out
and the dream in.

9 comments:

  1. oh my Roasaria...beautiful!

    ReplyDelete
  2. I didn't really write this yesterday. A version of this was written long time ago, Rancor wasthe subject, and hunger for companionship and connection the driving forces.

    Somehow one word, one comma here and there, and the meaning is different. I added the last lines at the last minute, wanting to emphasize that the whole thing is still about dreaming to have it all.

    The babies appeared out of nowhere. I guess it's instictual to be awaken by hungry, fussy babies, and only mothers tend to hear them. I wanted that image, including the smell of a messy diaper without distracting too much from the sleeper's need.

    Petry brings out the playful me.
    Prose demands that I get in hot water.

    Thanks, Suz. Coming from you, this feels great.
    Thanks, Normal. Glad you liked it.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Ouch, I posted before I checked!

    ReplyDelete
  4. incredibly powerful, Rosaria, and oddly where my mind is at. i've been thinking of the depression and starvation. i'm reading a book on the Irish potato famine. and then this. it is terribly brilliant to me. brilliant. the word tit reduces us to bodies in its way. i find this very honest.

    xo
    erin

    ReplyDelete
  5. i wish i had written this. ha. envy.

    i have linked to you. i hope that is alright.

    xo
    erin

    ReplyDelete
  6. What? Erin! I'm just your student, learning to use the word 'tit'.

    ReplyDelete
  7. Wow, fantastic, Rosaria. Thanks to Erin's link on her sidebar, I came to this blog, which I hadn't visited yet.

    This poem is tremendous, I love it.

    And we are all learning from Erin.

    ReplyDelete
  8. Ruth, so good to see you here. We are all learning from sharing with each other, and Erin is leading us on so grandly.

    ReplyDelete