# Thank You to the Architect Who Turned my Mind into Rooms



## SilverMoon (Jul 17, 2016)

............................................_
_
Licensed by nature,...........................................................................................................................
you tooled beneath the bust of a woman
.......    ......who became a swimming pool

. therein, a spec buoyed 
..by amniotic tears in the circle of the woman
..who was a Deciduous tree, barren of leaves, shade,
. insanity exposed. O _mother.O
._

At first kick, I heard architetus coo 

Hello, hello, my little embryo
..........I’m building you a steel crib, 
..........a mobile made of blades and a barb wired bib.

How can a hammer
whisper?
How can a saw see a fetus 
shiver?

After the damn broke,
when the circle
became a stadium of relief

  I was handed to you
.wrinkled, bald, blind
''''''''- death reversed
......... '''in swaddling

..The steps you’d made
and took into my mind, 
....all callow and yellow 
..............like cornfields
..................my home – 

were cobblestoned, smooth
for a fast get to....

away from heed of angels,
.......  turning me into your
.........  Venus in a Half Hell.

Rest of fire saved 
for toddler days when 
I sought an icebox room-
………  .where I grew stiff.
……….........forever three

You never erected a castle 
but a shame shack
where Kings could 
,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,never
hold court for your
misdeeds....

when
whiskey breath
fogged early eyes

fingers raked
        possum spine

when
 stained teeth
bit pink

fevered-
_no thermometer in sight -_
you plied my mouth opened wide,
..................,,,,,,,,,,,,,........ split.
architect,
 you did it and did it -
 then worse for ugly years ahead.

In time
your hunger
turned me into a broken plate

shards of self,
girl divided on concrete - 
multiplied by an architect ...

the
Girl next door
Whore you want to bring home to mother for a good slap in the face
Biker Chick who protects Debutante without a Trust fund.
Earth Mother who brings baskets of fruit for the sad cases
Goatie who'll get your goat anytime*.....*
X's four, maybe more?

You peopled me.


A room for each,
out of reach from hands.

no rooms adjoining. 
no meeting of mind. 

Some go for the float,
maybe for a week,and
 comeback in an Eskimo coat
........... .no warmth, known.

Taller, 
they roll architetus into a blueprint,
bury him beneath the drawing board 
and write his epitaph with the blood
yet left in them.

“Here I lie_, _a ruler, measured for all the rooms I made her.”

Now,
 a Cathedral,
exquisite, wrought 
from burden and
................. raised by the grace 
................. of my own hands.


----------



## dannyboy (Jul 18, 2016)

loved it!


----------



## Firemajic (Jul 18, 2016)

SilverMoon said:


> Licensed by nature,
> you tooled beneath the bust of a woman who became a swimming pool
> where I became a spec buoyed by amniotic tears in the circle
> of the woman who was a Deciduous tree barren of leafs, *** Love this line... fabulous!
> ...


*** Exquisite, yes, this last line is exquisite, poignant and powerful...

Hello, SilverMoon, it is always a treat to read your work... like being on a roller coaster, blindfolded... and stoned... lol...
anyway, I loved this unique creation, however, I felt [JMO} that toward the end, the lines became long and overwritten, as if you were trying to pack each line with as much emotional imagery as possible and you know that sometimes, less is more... But, fear not ... this is one of your absolute best, and this style, you have made your own... sublime work, so painful to read, but one can't look away from a disaster... the sheer magnitude of emotional and physical abuse keeps me nailed in place, unable to look away, and leaves me with such feelings of rage .... The last line is so sublime...


----------



## Sonata (Jul 18, 2016)

I had to read this three times - not because I did not understand it but because it fascinated me and I loved it.


----------



## Chesters Daughter (Jul 18, 2016)

Okay, I'm more than a little rusty when it come to critique, but you've dragged me from the shadows, so here goes. Upon first glance, the length seemed a wee bit daunting, but once engrossed, it was clear that my initial response was very misconceived. Despite the number of lines, it doesn't seem long at all. Speaking of lines, your breaks are impeccable, and you've staggered long and short with great success. No easy feat.

The originality of your turns of phrase and accompanying imagery is nothing less than brilliant. If I weren't so raw from the content and attempted to cite particular lines, I'd end up quoting most of the piece. I read this at 3am and it stole my sleep. How's that for evocative. The description of birth and awaiting accoutrements really grabbed hold of me in the most disturbing of ways. The listing of the different "people", each afforded a room of their own, is superbly effective. This piece will remain with me evermore, and is likely your very best work to date. Kudos. I'm guessing it took a great amount of time to create work of such caliber, so fess up, how long?

Knowing you as I do, I believe I've been blessed with additional insight for this particular work, it certainly explains a good deal, a good portion of which you've previously kept bottled up. My poor girl. I can only pray it afforded you infinite catharsis that helps maintains lasting integration, you certainly deserve it. Healing hugs, Laurie, and be proud, your baby steps to find peace have become giant strides and your confidence is awe inspiring.

More hugs,
me


----------



## SilverMoon (Jul 18, 2016)

*Dannyboy – *In just two words you’ve given my work great honor. Thank you     

*FireMajic-*Given that you are also a Confessional Writer, gifted by its very definition, exposing intimate, disturbing and sometimes even grotesque details (the latter particularly pertaining to this piece) of the “I”. I consider it your toast to me that you found this to be disastrous yet unable to turn away from it. A testament that I did my job. Thank you.

I will say I am pleased with the last line and  there within lies the word I’m most pleased with - “raised”- a double entendre, as in _the lifting up _then as _in the rearing_ – I did raise, parent myself through a rather confounding but saving defense mechanism. Though, if not for it, I would have been what I call “Terrifyingly Sane”. Complete Clarity might have surely been the end of me.

Now…I’m so glad my work gets you stoned! You must let me know if it’s a dube or more of an acid trip high so I’ll know how much I’ll be collecting. :greedy_dollars:

*ChestersDaughter- *I am completely blown away and in the most magnificent way hearing from you and all that you’ve had to say. First, if you think you might have given me a rusty critique I wish you could slip behind my eyes and read what I have – brilliant, precise wording with tremendous grasp of craft. I consider critique an art form and you are a master. You have not lost your MoJo!

A year ago the title struck me like thunder. When I came to I realized it could be read two ways – sarcastically or earnestly. I loved this notion. However, I had no idea how I could marry words to the title. There was the visceral and technical to be tended to, and carefully. It was only yesterday morning (and the planets must have been aligned) for surprisingly, suddenly I was in the right space to tackle it. How to manage this technically was a huge challenge. I must have spent most of my time editing (I do love the process,though). So, thank you for pointing to my methods with approval! It took a day to write but really a year, the title causing some kind of subconscious marinating of words, I suppose.

We’ve known each other for some time, Lisa, and your compassion reaches me so deeply that I feel like giving this a printout to tuck beneath my pillow. If I were capable of shedding tears, I would be crying at this very moment. There somewhere.  But I do feel the Hugs! And back to you! ME
*
Sonata-*You gave this a three go around?! Three plus more thanks!
*
Midnight**-  *Thank you for reading and for your “Like”. I imagine this must be a difficult read for a guy and especially if the guy is a dad. My thanks, again.

And a thank you to *rickyknight1*


----------



## Nellie (Jul 19, 2016)

Laurie, 

I'm overcome with deep sorrow and feel the desperation in your heart and mind as you speak of the atrocities that have occurred in your life. You have a distinct way of arranging words into mesmerizing imagery. There are so many lines in this poem that speak so L-O-U-D. I don't know which line to start with, except the obvious, the beginning. I know it has taken years to collect the thoughts and put them all together. So My hope for you, my friend, is that this poem is freeing for you, like Lisa said, a catharsis. Thank you, my dear, for sharing some of the most intimate parts of your life.


----------



## midnightpoet (Jul 19, 2016)

Laurie

The more I read this the more the details meant to me.  My own father wouldn't discipline me, ripped my mother a new one if she spanked me; however, this practice only made me a poor disciplinarian myself, and didn't do my own son much good.  He heaped emotional abuse at my mother, especially in her later years.  I have always said, since they were born before 1900, that they had different attitudes, but of course that's no excuse.  Carry on, great work.

Tony


----------



## Bard_Daniel (Jul 19, 2016)

Woah! This was an entire life transferred, like brushstrokes, onto your poetic canvas. Definitely enjoyed it. Great hustle!


----------



## SilverMoon (Jul 19, 2016)

*Cindy* - Thank you dear friend. And you've been very supportive for years. Yes, much catharsis and continued evermore hearing from all of you. The idea for this piece had been in mind for a year, yes. Not the norm for me to pour out and structure so quickly. Beyond me as I'm mostly the snail. Nevertheless I am relieved it "finally" got out.

 Pain is so relative. There are persons who've suffered such abuse at the hands of more than one person. I can't imagine suffering, always in the wide awake state. The troopers.

One day, I imagined a little boy sitting at the dinner table. His mother giving him a look of disapproval for his very being. Imagine the horror? Did I suffer more than he? Did he suffer more than I? Someday I am going to write about this little boy.....

*Tony *- From the beginning you have had my greatest respect for being open about trials. Now, here you have me thinking about the Nature/Nurture debate. Really, beyond my scope. Is a child born to behave in a given way or is he taught? What I do know is that we folks were stuck with Dr. Spock in the early 50's. Now, maybe a million  books out to educate BabyBoomers with multiple ways to approach child rearing. As to your son disrespecting your mother? I'm thinking it's pretty probable that as a kid he witnesses her being abused by your father. Kids are impressionable. So, I think you have nothing to do with that! I don't have any children but if I had I imagine we could have a whopper of a discussion! Peace...

*danielstj* - Thanks so much. I don't know what "hustle" means to the younger crowd these days but it sounds good to me!


----------



## midnightpoet (Jul 19, 2016)

Oh I messed up, I meant to say it was my father who did the emotional abuse at mother, not my son!  I have to be careful, sometimes I don't pay good enough attention to my words.Your point is well taken on nature vs nurture.  I don't know - my wife sometimes complains I'm like my father in some ways; lately she wonders if I have a form of Aspergers, as I'm often not aware I'vr doner something wrong, maybe hurt her feelings.  I've already done some non fiction on my life, I'm thinking of continuing.  What happened, for example, during the seventh grade that turned me inward, not coming out of my shell until I was almost 30?


----------



## SilverMoon (Jul 20, 2016)

I think what happened was that one sentence bled into another for me. My bad! Not yours.

Oh! I think it's great that your wanting to return to writing about your life. I was a member of Woman's Memoir Writing Group for two years. A wonderful journey.

It is absolutely intriguing - what could have happened to cause you to turn inward at such a young age and stay in the shell for decades? Now, that's immense material right there. 

I am so glad turtle has come out of his shell! :tickled_pink:


----------



## Ariel (Jul 20, 2016)

I kindly ask that all posters return to the topic at hand which is Silvermoon's poem.  Any further personal discussion should be taken to PM.


----------

