Monday, July 27, 2009

Cathodic Protection


A deer grazes silent at grave’s edge
A gentle symbol where all is bluntly defined

Lucy sits on a headstone
The sun washes her eyes a gold outlaw mask
A sacrificial anode for society’s rust
She sits in solitude
No fortress against the slow passing minutes

Blue eyes that in sockets orbit
Sun-spot pinpoints
Burn in the firmament of her face
Not incendiary not supernova
But fires long tamed to ember

Pale hands tendon tender
Worry the sanctuary of her lap
Know no urge to reach out
Into the vacuum of passing bodies
Unloved

And in the city below people wake
Secure in the knowledge that they care

--- o O o ---


This piece is a reaction to Samantha Morton’s “The Unloved”; a haunting and poetic portrayal of isolation - a young life fallen between society’s cracks.


10 comments:

Mariana Soffer said...

Beeautifull text, it is great how it manages to depict solitude, actually it made me feel a little anguish. Also the drawin at the back is excelent, really well done.

Punch said...

'Worry the sanctuary of her lap'
that image will remain with me today.

Jimmy Bastard said...

Deep and gritty, written with feeling. This could not have been written by someone who has not experienced life.

Pisces Iscariot said...

Mariana: solitude and isolation while surrounded by people - that is what this film portrayed with such alacrity.

Punch: Molly Windsor, the actress who played Lucy, did so with such calm, giving only small indications of the inner turmoil.

Jimmy: I blush to think what a pretentious twat I would look were I to respond to your comment ;}

James Higham said...

Isolation and alienation - the modern scourges or the modern blessings.

the walking man said...

Lucy may be isolated but she is not alone.

Pisces Iscariot said...

James: depends what you want :)

walking man: she is alone even though there are numerous care workers and fellow 'children at risk' all around her.

human being said...

we graze
the green grass like a deer
warmth of the sun like lonely cold planets
and
love of the hearts like an unloved child...

and never think of
caressing the grass
kissing the sun
and
understanding the rhythm of the hearts

Pisces Iscariot said...

human being: thanks for the poem. As for myself, I don't think I could ever be the deer (perhaps I could be the grass)

Moineau En France said...

have you seen agnes varda's "vagabonde" with bonnaire? another stark portrait! xoxoxoxoox