Nette Onclaud Poet Dramatic Verse

Woman In a Flashback

From light to dark, I am filled with delusion
Of memories unknown, of emotional strain
Like a hermit to words in moments dismembered
When time became a  riddle, a crazed  labyrinth 
That each flashback becomes a nightmare
Documenting nothing , not even  a whimper.

A quiet wail rattles of stories, from where?
Her web of remembrance, disarranged,
Embalming vignettes from thoughts fading fast
When tremors besiege, yet I suppress the angst;
Till I ask, ‘Woman of fog, scream my name,’
Before fiction becomes a chained reality.



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11/21/2015
Contest: Mirror Of Memories 'Alzheimer's' 
Sponsor: Tammy Reams

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Skat A November 28, 2015 at 2:47 PM Nette, Congratulations on your well-deserved win in Tammy's contest. <3 ForEver SKAT

Punnia Viswan Bhatia November 27, 2015 at 8:12 AM beautifully penned.. Congrats on the win Nette :) god bless

Tammy Reams November 26, 2015 at 11:04 PM Congrats on your win Nette! This write has some very strong feelings the fog and the lamplight was fantastic! Thank you for entering into my contest and Happy Thanksgiving.

CayCay Godwin November 22, 2015 at 6:35 AM You nailed it. From what I've witnessed of this disease in my life, you captured my thoughts and feelings. It is a sorrow without end, beyond my grasp, that you have beautifully articulated .... CayCay

Rhoma Em November 21, 2015 at 8:51 PM You create a great sense of pained duality in this poem - a real feeling of loss. The language is potent creating broken, desperate sketches. 10/10!

Duke Beaufort November 21, 2015 at 7:37 AM The sad and cruel end for some of us is in our future. It's strange how we can use the mirror to look back and to look ahead.

Leon Datu November 21, 2015 at 2:03 AM A special, tearing poem, Nette. I lost my mother to Alzheimer's. Best to you.

Lyva Marty November 20, 2015 at 8:41 PM This outstanding poem has such heart impact that it is difficult not to stop and feel deeply about what you relayed-- the pain of emptiness, confusion.

Franco Gonza November 20, 2015 at 4:15 PM Nette, the broken feel of this is indeed one of fading--- losing the richness and color of a world that is slowly slipping away.This kind of poetry astounds yet tears me apart.