Mnemosyne or The Unexpected Death Of Virginia Woolf


Amazing verbal and written poetry by a talented writer. Please read and enjoy.

Karen Mary Berr - Poetry & Video

Here she is, here again,
that woman you once were,
that sum of memories
you drowned in purple wine.
The nostalgic beast who lurks
in the lacery of your mind,
opening your still eyes
in this last day you are a life,
returning you to reality
as you enter water.
You feel the electric world
the raw nerve of the world,
throbbing, throbbing,
through her blood-heat.

When you came tonight
that red clock had shrunk
with all the grapes of summer.
The river was kind, static
to the point of blackness,
lying in a self-absorbed luster.
Its dark bed was bottomless
– nothing lower could be looked to.
It was just like the long lie
your fever bathes into
since all stars have failed.
You thought you’d burn with them,
cold, neutral,
your sex petrified in crystal.

But now every drop of milk
in your skin of lotus flower,
changes…

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