13 June 2010

my oubliette

hands release to a
swift dark descent
bone thudding crunch

last light,
a flare drops in
before the iron lid closes
on my oubliette

flare sputters, dies
blackness accentuates water
trickling down limestone
emptying in a creek
aside the breadth
of my oubliette

loved ones butchered,
me thrown in a hole
conquerors triumph
spirits destroyed
placing my face
in the creek’s cold flow
I breathe in
my oubliette

Shout out to kuyerjudd at One Single Impression for the prompt: oubliette.  I took the picture last summer in the Lockport Caves at Lockport, New York.  It seemed to fit the oubliette prompt.

Pronunciation: \ˌü-blē-ˈet\ Function: noun Etymology: French, from Middle French, from oublier to forget, from Old French oblier, from Vulgar Latin *oblitare, frequentative of Latin oblivisci to forget — more at oblivion Date: 1819 : a dungeon with an opening only at the top.


anthonynorth said...

You've risen to the prompt. Powerful. Enjoyed that.

Ramesh Sood said...

A profound but a bit sad take on the prompt..it touches the cord..

Sweetest in the Gale said...

This is beautifully expressed, yet so tragic...powerful.

Harshad mehta said...

A tragedy well put in words.

flaubert said...

The tragedy you have described here reminds me of the Salem Witch Trials and how they were imprisoned before their death. It has a chilling quality to it.
Well done Brenda!

brenda w said...

Thank you all for your visits and comments. This was an interesting prompt to explore. Being tossed in a dungeon would not bode well with me. :)

Tumblewords: said...

Not a pleasant place to be! Nicely worded, the imagery fits very well!

S.L. Corsua said...

The "loved ones butchered" line made me remember a scene in the "Interview With the Vampire: The Vampire Chronicles" film (1994) where the two female vamps were sentenced to die in an oubliette, i.e. when the sun rose and light filled the hole.

The last four lines in the poem gave me a bit of a shiver.

brenda w said...

SL, I remember that scene! Sometimes I wonder if all the images of our lives are subconsciously saved up for later stories and poems. hmmm... Thank you for your visit.

Dances With Loons said...

Yes, tragic indeed...you capture it very well.