Where is my mama running?
A poem about dementia from the Rumbles from the grinder series
Child:
Where are you going, Mother,
With your eyes glaring?
Where are you going, Mother,
Your tired feet stumbling?
Mother :
I’m running along roads of capsizing childhood
At the orders of a master that none but I, sees
I keep sweeping the storms I salvaged from the breeze
And whip my tired legs with my own firewood
Child :
How so, Mother,
With your eyes glaring?
How so, Mother,
Your tired feet stumbling?
Mother :
I have walked, I have crawled through the mountain ridges
Seeking to bathe in streams of oblivion
I have buried myself in plains of obsidian
The voice of my master relentlessly pursues
The Master calls
The Master calls
The Master calls
The Master calls
If I do not flee
The scaffold will seize me
Child :
Why, my Mother
With your eyes glaring?
Why, my Mother
Your tired feet stumbling?
Mother :
The gavel of the judge resounds at my temple
And my own memories are murdering me
I am terrified of every step I take
I fear the hungry hordes tearing at my belly
Child :
Where to go, my mother,
With your eyes glaring?
Where to go, my mother,
Your tired feet stumbling?
Mother :
My daughter, my memory, be for me one who knows
The source of the torments that devour my skull
My own face is a thing that I don’t recognize
But this fiery angst pursues me in my soul
The Master calls
The Master calls
The Master calls
The Master calls
If I do not flee
The scaffold will seize me
