Dreaming the Breasts..

[binahboy.livejournal.com]

Mother,
strange goddess face
above my milk home,
that delicate asylum,
I ate you up.
All my need took
you down like a meal.

What you gave
I remember in a dream:
the freckled arms binding me,
the laugh somewhere over my woolly hat,
the blood fingers tying my shoe,
the breasts hanging like two bats
and then darting at me,
bending me down.

The breasts I knew at midnight
beat like the sea in me now.
Mother, I put bees in my mouth
to keep from eating
yet it did no good.
In the end they cut off your breasts
and milk poured from them
into the surgeon's hand
and he embraced them.
I took them from him
and planted them.

I have put a padlock
on you, Mother, dear dead human,
so that your great bells,
those dear white ponies,
can go galloping, galloping,
wherever you are.

~ Anne Sexton

Comments

[i-dread.livejournal.com]

I really love Anne's work.

[melodily.livejournal.com]

Anne Sexton has very graphic descriptions-- she sort of reminds me of Sylvia Plath (think Daddy).

[myrrha-chandra.livejournal.com]

Again, great dark poetry, thanks for posting.

danke

[binahboy.livejournal.com]

Hey
Thank you all. I posted this as a mirror poem for to a sad daughter.
Melodily, I think anne was a less personal poet than sylvia. for obvious reasons. Like atwood and anais.

Myrrha, thanks. I am eternal fan for subtly written dark poetry.
cheers