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By now, my hair is long again,
and curls around my neck. It has
uncombed itself in grief,
and is thick and slick with oil.
At times, it seems to hiss
from mirrors, or from the edge of sleep.
Such are snakes: Split
from end to end, their tongues
are treacherous and whisper:
"She will be back."

I long for Fakirs, or a flute to soothe and stop
the simple, the snivelling snake. To sing
a song of silence, and of India,
its waters warm and ever-blue - O India!
To be far away, and warm.

I have never been to India, and here
the days are cold. My hair
is all that is here for me to bear.

The snow is cold, and the wind is cold.
From my nose, something presses at my eyes.

And so:

Snakeskin is cold, but I will not
go bald. A story is better than none,
a song of sorrow can still be sweet.
Wrote this last night. I am mostly looking at the end when it comes to feedback. I am very happy with the first and second stanzas, though of course, feedback is still required. I suppose that since this poem was due to an overflow of spontaneous emotion, I hope I have been tranquil enough when writing it. It certainly seemed to help.
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cogongrass Featured By Owner May 21, 2011
I'm going Medusa on this--so, if I'm way off, apologies in advance. (: I like your exploration of her character here, your sympathetic portrayal. A lot of tones typically come from Medusa renditions (wrath, rage, sickness, spite, etc.); it's rare to come across one that really centers on her isolation, her curse. It's the most human element of her story--it was nice to see it taken advantage of here (I thought "My hair / is all that is here for me to bear" was particularly effective--and a solid rhyme, at that.)

I learned a little bit, too, here, which is always nice. I didn't know about the Fakirs before this one--it was a cool, clean slant, and a great transition from the wild snake hair to the Fakirs to India and, in isolation, dreaming of something else entirely. Nice nice nice.
rober2 Featured By Owner May 21, 2011  Professional Writer
Well, it is and isn't about Medusa. This poem actually grew from a few lines that were supposed to go into "on his death". But I didn't think that they fit particularly well with that poem, since they are lines of identity, whereas the other poem is a poem of meaning, even if they are both about grief. Also, it grew from Neil Gaiman's Sandman, in which a grieving mother is almost, but not quite, turned into the Medusa after losing her baby. So it is a comment on that image, on that temptation of bitterness, I suppose, as well as a poem about identity and loss.
numbskulled00 Featured By Owner May 19, 2011  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
though sad,it has a very soothing discribes what we all have been through at one time or other-although i think it would be better if you ended at 'and so'
rober2 Featured By Owner May 21, 2011  Professional Writer
Why after 'and so'? The poem is not particularly good after that, maybe, but I'm not sure I'd cut off the meaning after that.
numbskulled00 Featured By Owner May 21, 2011  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
i actually meant right before that. cause then it gives the reader the opportunity to use the brain-try to figure out what your driving at instead of telling your point. i think sometimes it makes more of an impact on people if you only give them tidbits of info and they hafta figure out the gist themselves.but that's just my oppinion
rober2 Featured By Owner May 22, 2011  Professional Writer
Hmm, you might be right. I will think on this.
numbskulled00 Featured By Owner May 22, 2011  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
cool! i really liked this one!
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