"For-warned By A Vision" by Claudia Branham

By Latest Reply 2009-02-04 08:39:04 -0600
Started 2009-02-03 17:27:47 -0600

This is A Poem I wrote About How I Felt My Life Was Going; Maybe You Can Relate. Explain if it relates or affects you in your life.

Night Fallsl
Suddenly, I yawn, yearning to settle like the sun.
Onc again, falling into piles of pillows made of down and softly woven blankets of fleece.
I'll Sleep.

My body now submits itself to the superior being housed within.
As if by majic, the all-powerful mind takes full control,
to exaggerate it's existence, beyond the wakeful soul.
And to the pictures which express the future life of my being.
I'll dream.

Though vaguely familiar, I know I've been here before.
Quietly, I stand, eyeing the old woman huddled in a corner. Her surroundings lacking conveiences or comforts;
Just the evidence of a tiny, four-walled, box-like space envelopes her.

She appears cold, scared and hungry while groveling around the floor;
fighting morsel for morsel, to steal the scattered crumbs away from the already, belly-fat and selfish mice.

Until,Alas, the battle ends.
The woman lost.
The crumbs are gone.

The mice, already strong from the previously stolen morsels, were even better prepared to challenge the old woman over the only available food that she knows.

When next they meet, there are no crumbs, only the sad remains of an old woman who once struggled to steal the food from the already belly-fat and selfish mice.

Her body was lifeless, stiff from death.

The floor was bare, no food for the mice, or the old woman who once existed there.

The mice, quickly scamper out of the musty room of stench, and into another.

To prey, once again, on another undernourished old woman.
Too weak to win a battle against the crumb-stelly, belly-fat and selfish mice.

And she too, will eventually die.
The crumb-stealing, belly-fat, and selfish mice, once again, win.

7 replies

GabbyPA 2009-02-04 06:41:21 -0600 Report

Claudia, this is beautifuly sad.

I am a very visual person and this gives me pictures in my mind; dark, grimmey, silent pictures. It is interesting that you chose your daughter as the model, but it was old women in the dream.
Why is that?

It is sad when our survival is focused on the crumbs of life, when the fat-bellied mice are there for the taking. I know I too often feel that way, but I have to open my eyes to the opportunities to "devour" those that would devour me.

Very thought provoking. Thank you for being willing to share such personal things.

2009-02-04 08:39:04 -0600 Report

My Daughter is and always will be my main reason for living, she came before my husband; but my responsibility as a mother was always first, and I never felt I was caring for her properly, or giving her, even, the basic needs.

I was wrong, and she is a wonderful, and beautiful young lady.

The other thing was, she was an extremely slow growth baby; which, I thought was my fault. It turned out, she is just small and short, like her grandmother.

I am far from saying I did it all right, when raising her, but I didn't do it all wrong;either.

As for her stepfather, Jim. Well she couldn't have a better one. She loves him, as if he were her own. He is the only father she has ever known, anyway.

LadyDi - 26259Miller
LadyDi - 26259Miller 2009-02-03 18:44:23 -0600 Report

You write beautifully, Claudia, although this is certainly a telling poem expressing some of what you've personally experienced, and it's very tough to read and think that it's your personal experience. But you express yourself so well that one can really feel your pain and sadness - at least to some extent. I saw some of your pictures, and they too are very telling. You certainly have a lot of talent. Thank you for sharing this personal expression with all of us. I pray that soon you'll be writing and drawing some much happier things.

highlandcitygirl 2009-02-03 18:42:51 -0600 Report

the mice are the un-caring people in the world, those who have not a clue about the not so private torments of others! they just have the ability to be blind to the grief that some people bear.

highlandcitygirl 2009-02-03 18:22:16 -0600 Report

did you write this poem from a dream you had? or is this part, of the torment of your soul?

2009-02-03 18:36:41 -0600 Report

Exactly; it was tormenting me; I felt I would not make anything out of my life.
In the actual drawing, my daughter lay naked in the room, against a cold wall.I was on the floor and the mice were all around, while she sat, scrunched up against the wall; with a few crumbs around her.
She never grew, because I felt I could not care for her properly at the time.

I have always cared for her. I will see if one of the pictures I downloaded are of the picture that goes with this, then I will post it, or one of them.
Thanks for reading, did you gain any insight from it. That is what is important;

The one window is broken, one picture of my daughter had fallen and broken on the floor. There are no rugs or blankets, just a cold floor. And two naked body; mine all old and shriveled up, her young but malnutritioned
Friends, Claudia