I Hear Your Call


The term. Oesophageal Varices.

Blood flows, it fills your lungs and oozes,

blacklashed bruises crimson tears closed-eyes

hemmed in by black-gut twist. I hear your call.

It’s time to take your leave, death’s wanton whore

demands the living line to still, to view

her neon underscore, the beep your

overture, your wordless note. I hear your call.

You leave me feathers in your silent wake,

the first I found stuck to my sole, and knew

you’d come to me in dreams, and leave an ache,

my Ariel, and still, I hear your call.

Somehow love missed you, held you in it’s thrall,

and how it missed… yet still, I hear your call.

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2 thoughts on “I Hear Your Call

  1. jaynestanton 17/01/2011 at 11:33 pm Reply

    I love the haunting refrain, with fewer lines between each repeat.
    I also like the iambic pentameter, with fewer iambs/broken rhythm before each repeat of refrain (intentional or happy accident?)
    Your creativity and sheer output is putting me to shame, Lindsay! 🙂

  2. lindsaywallerwilkinson 17/01/2011 at 11:43 pm Reply

    yes- it started as a sonnet, then took over and became it’s own, hence the strong iambic rhythm and rhyme… I’ve been dreaming poems for years, but kept them there- they’re just all coming out now 🙂

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