Saturday, December 11, 2010

Anne Sexton: I Know your Kind...





Anne Sexton: I know your kind
of woman, your prescriptive poetry
a ward deemed Pulitzer....unworthily I
nursed on it, and
its straitjacket virtue

black...beauty does that...to its own

unless I regress, I would not
claim content to your words...a woman
subject: to a following of wanton depressed....
a voice that served (you)
a blessing, but
refused to save you otherwise; logic
weighted too heavy a task..over therapy shocked
blind...(can you see now?)

Anne, little of you
can escape me, for I know Her Kind of woman
she nursed me...motherless, she nursed me
far to long and long ago to value
any form of padding or sheltered island
remedied as
painless.... I too have "done my hitch...
out of mind"


bkmackenzie
copyrighted 2010

for my mother who died Dec 12th, 2001....never having lived, she also had black hair. Referencing Anne Sexton's: "Her Kind"  ...bkm

7 comments:

  1. Incredible post. This seems so personal, I feel I shouldn't even comment, but I felt someone should....

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  2. Barbara,

    I'm responding here to the several recent poems your site page shows -- you're more than a idle scribbler.

    It's funny. I always fear I get too 'serious'. Now I've met someone with something of that slant.

    Glad we're in contact. I'll follow your entries with interest.

    Trulyfool

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  3. thank Neva and Trulyfool, it is personal but not in vain...my mother was a beautiful woman too, caught like Anne Sexton in the mental health system of the 60's like Anne she never recovered from it....but I came to terms with it long ago....bkm

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  4. Oh, I am sorry about what happened to your mother. That is hard for a daughter to bear. You express those feelings beautifully, however. Thank you for sharing; it is very brave.

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  5. such a moving piece, It is everything I wanted my Sylvia poem to from a few days ago.

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  6. Thank you for sharing such a personal piece of work with us. I know your feelings about this topic from your other writings and wondered from where the inspiration came...

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  7. Oh my, lovely and poignant. So sorry for you your mother, and for you...but you have crafted something beautiful from your sorrow.

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