Vicki Wilson “Sleeping Beauty”

Once upon a time
Along a path I wandered
As a fallen leaf does wander
Lain upon a stream
… as though dancing
… as though careless
… as though young
Wherein dark woods I stumbled
Ensnared by fallow spindle
Which bade me kneel my sacred ground
And I bent my back upon the point
Until impaled… and unbeknownst
Cursed with waking sleep
Stitched shut within a shroud
Despite the mirror and the mist
Muted
And subdued
And fifty shades of greys
Bleeding into grey
Like some tawdry love story
If tawdry is worn and caked with grime
And the love story… benign
And expected
And engrained
In glass funnels
Always upended
With the perpetuity
Of a spinning wheel
Each turn bought with youth, all but spent
Until you kissed me
Full on the mouth.
Like a slap.

© Vicki Wilson

I am an amateur poet, published author and professional technical analyst… all of these things mean I basically solve puzzles for a living, and to keep from dying. I know this because I died once. Metaphorically. Six years of a slow death by industrialised decision making. In the end I was so numb to living I ceased to exist. But burn-out has a silver lining, you wake up and all you have left is steel and the rich black of sticky charcoal to make your mark. I am still learning how to hold a pen, how to form words into a living thing, but my scratchings are mine, they are made with the corpse of who I was. I offer them as evidence I exist.

I have recently published a children’s book – written and illustrated by myself – under the banner of dragonflypublishing. You can find me there writing my next one: https://www.facebook.com/dragonflypublishing.au.

6 thoughts on “Vicki Wilson “Sleeping Beauty”

  1. A great write, the way poetry is supposed to be done. It seems to be made of two parts though, the first the buildup and the premise and the second with ‘and fifty shades of grey’ ending with a flourish.

    Like

    • I delighted in your comment, it is such a happy thing to be read as intended, especially when I still fail to capture much of what I wish to say. It is indeed two parts – a tale of distraction; the trap you notice, the poison you don’t, the awakening from both.

      Liked by 1 person

      • The feeling that a piece is incomplete haunts every writer, more often than not, it is also true. But we need to commit at some time, even if we are aware of the flaws, and that applies to things beyond our writings.
        Love the thinking that went into this piece, I could not have expressed it so

        Like

      • And with writing one can always iterate, so we should be kind to ourselves yes? 🙂 some other things in life, not so much.
        And thank you. From you, that is a mighty compliment.

        Like

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