Mad Woman By (Mimi Mata Meyer) Poem by Mimi Mata

Mad Woman By (Mimi Mata Meyer)



What am I to you
Between your clenched hands?
I am miniscual; seeping through
In various shades of color...
Yet, it is only in your heart that
I am consumed in various shades of gray.

Upon looking at such lines,
What more can I say than what I have already written?
I am in anguish and I no longer want to speak with your adversaries,
And, within me I see you've grown fond of my martyr;
Speaking with faith...
I am a only a mad woman who loves you.

Mad, Mad, Mad...
Mad woman,
I've replaced my head with my own questionable audience...
And they never applaud.
I seek you out in the distance,
And your shadow is the only one that is real.
Somewhat billowing, and unrecognizable amongst the others.

What more can I say?
I've written of all things of life,
I've written of all things of death,
I've written of fragments, steel, and of lifeless flowers...
Yet, more alive than anything...
Is this mad heart that you so long for and adore.

And, so I ask...
What am I to you
Between your clenched hands?
Does it set you at ease and comfort
Such solemn grace?
Uprooted and seemingly yours?

Nonetheless, I am sick of speaking of flowers,
They are not that delicate...
I am consumed in various shades of gray
And because of that matter
What more can I say than what I have already written?
Speaking with faith...
I am only a mad woman who loves you.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Indranil Bhaduri 12 November 2012

Fantastic..different shades depicted...Great work.

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Mimi Mata

Mimi Mata

San Diego, California
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