Airless and unloved, in the dank basement of the mind
by Luisa A. Igloria, from “A Reparation”
Flutterings, the authors of which I cannot say;
a scent of green or black decay undetermined.
Rough tendrils creep from sole to grubby ankle
Will I feel a pinch or be heaved from this grave?
Today’s offering is as far as the spirit wanted to take me.
image: “Trapped,” by Christine Morren
Laura is today’s host at dVerse‘ Poetics. Laura says:
So for this Poetics prompt I give you some final lines: Choose ONE and write your poem as continuation where the poet left off, with special thought to your own final lines:-
•“As if we could hear music inside the words” Gail Newman ~ Trust
•“Airless and unloved, in the dank basement of the mind” L. Igloria ~ A Reparation
•“Call me to lie down in fragrance.” D. Margoshes ~ Season of Lilac
•“So close that your sea rises with my heat” C.Perez ~ Love in a Time of Climate Change
•“The clear vowels rise like balloons” S.Plath ~ Morning Song
•“You fling it open for the first time/ but I’m gone” M Kahf ~ Wall
Preferably do NOT use the lines as title or within your writing but either cite the reference at the end OR place the quote as Epigraph to the start of your poem.
Tao Talk 
Green or black? Growth or decay? So many questions… Great response, Lisa.
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Thank you, Sarah.
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Oh my …. a voice from the grave. The image is powerful.
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Thank you, Lillian.
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a startling pic and your words add further depth! Black decay, creeping tendrils, grubby … your use of words arise from that dank dark basement.
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Thanks for your perspective, Kate.
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Haunting and dark. What’s not to like? It’s chilling.
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LOL It’s how I feel a lot of the time! Winter isn’t easy in the best of times. Winter of being locked in in solitary is this grave.
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Such a disturbing image(s) (Morren’s and yours) – I get (and cringe at) the comfort your subject has in their grave – and the prospect of being ‘heaved’ should leave us all a little troubled.
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Thank you for the insightful comment, Peter.
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Oh so deep and evocative.
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Sadje, thank you.
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You’re welcome Li
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I like what you did with the prompt! No, I don’t think you will feel a thing!
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Thank you, Dwight. As long as one is dead, I’m sure you’re right.
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:>)
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A striking image, both painted and in words. My heart bleeds for this fragile little creature though I feel perhaps that all is not lost?
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I feel you are right, Ingrid. Thank you for reading and your thoughtful comment.
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Each line conveys so much. Brilliant composition!
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Thank you much, Reena.
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Wow. Dark.
I shivered, Lisa
-David
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Thank you, David.
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The snippet seems appropriate for the subject. It seems those questions never end. (K)
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You’re so right, Kerfe. In other times, I would shake it off and get out there and do stuff but being trapped means being trapped with those questions :(
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Green and black together mean mould and decaying matter. Perhaps he/she would be better left down there and not ‘heaved’ out. Not unless there are sure to be blue skies overhead.
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We will have to wait and see which would/could/should/shall(s) will prevail.
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Oh how delightfully original and imaginative! A resurrection of sorts, but how will it be achieved? To be continued.
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I love the way you see this. Thank you, my friend.
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I find it fascinating how much we live off death… the green sprouts from decay… sustenance is born from bones.
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It is fascinating! We are locked in an inescapable cycle of it.
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This is incredibly dark and enticing, Lisa! :D The opening line is a poem in itself that lures, charms, beckons 💝💝
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Sanaa, I love the way you see it. Thank you very much. <3
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Your spirit went to a perfect ending. Powerful poem, Lisa!
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Thank you much, Sara.
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