“A Study in Slumber” The Sunday Whirl #92

Linen wrapped around ivory bones,
a skinless cell lain behind glass;
the art curator reads to us
in bewared voice:

“Dressed in pearls and sombrero under
sorrowless sticky nights, a botany
of suitors came to be buried
beneath these desert stars.”

Feeling filaments in the air as we walk
through this museum, our heels split
cobbled knocks on the marble floor;
calling echoes in this musty-aired room,
they charge fifty pesos to see her and
others lying in tombs.

Advertisements

25 responses to ““A Study in Slumber” The Sunday Whirl #92

  1. Isn’t interesting what humans put on display? Your use of language flows like paint on canvas, Pamela. I love “Feeling filaments in the air as we walk…”

    • There is an interesting story behind the mummies in Guanajuato, Mexico. Though this piece is half that and half La Catrina. The words made me think of dead folks. Not sure why, lol.

  2. what an interesting visit you had…we pay to see the dead….maybe in hopes they are the symbol we remember or to comfort us in our own humanity…or learn a bit of where we have been…i like your inclusion of the curator’s dialogue as well…

  3. Is that the place where something in the soil preserves the dead like mummies? Heard friends talk about it but I never visited.. Your poem is nice & creepy – even in a museum

  4. Thank you for intruding this intriguing aspect of La Catrina. I Googled and found the cartoon illustration as well as other information concerning Dia de los Muertos. Kind of remind’s me just a bit of Madame Tussaud’s only her figures in memorandum are more than dressed bones.

    Thank you for your visit to my wordle ‘Haggard’. The first verse fell into place…and then I had to see where it was going. If there is enough interest, I might add to it. It will of course depend on the next wordle list 🙂
    Or maybe I’ll turn it into a piece for Flashy Fiction.

  5. I really found this fascinating!

  6. Pamela, you again bring an uncanny vividness to the words, allowing us to see in detail what you have experienced. That, my friend, is a unique and beautiful gift and talent.

    Elizabeth
    http://soulsmusic.wordpress.com/

  7. *blushing* Coming from you, Elizabeth, that is high praise, my friend. Thank you!

  8. Pamela that’s lovely. It reminds me of all the times I’d be dragging my children thru churches and castles looking for medieval history and other treasures. We would come across relics and, when Chloe was studying medieval history, she built a relic from chicken bones…not human bones…silver thread, buttons etc.

  9. I really like this:

    “our heels split
    cobbled knocks on the marble floor;
    calling echoes”

  10. hi pamela, I love the images you created in my mind. haunting.

  11. A wonderful visual, Pamela. A well painted picture! 😀

  12. Ooh, I read this through several times out loud – I love the feel of the words. Masterfully done! 🙂

  13. The first line got me and held me there. Some really wonderful use of words!

  14. The sound of the heels..loud as cracking bones..seem to acknowledge the sense of intrusion..how sad that it is only fifty pesos but how wonderful that she is still here..considered in words at least..

  15. I love the bit in inverted commas. It really has rhythm and feeling and weirdness… Pearls and sombrero.. Oh it’s lovely.

  16. Wonderful poem, reminds me of a kind of Inês de Castro . Interesting love story there

  17. I love this! Your poetry becomes richer and more powerful.

  18. Pamela, I like the “heel” bit – the tangibility of it and the resulting echo – it gave me a chill – like having someone walk on my grave.

    Richard

I appreciate all comments.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s