Death in Suburbia

Sometime past lunch,
when the housework is done,
a translucent lady
sheds her husk. In her mirror,
if she turns just so, the tricksy sun
cajoles grey to gold; teases
with wistful strokes.

Like a vodka-chased pill
she slides down a rabbit hole
until fingers feel
almost like strangers.
With a methodical parting,
functional probing,
she dies another small death.

Ryan Stone


60 thoughts on “Death in Suburbia

    • Thanks Kelly ๐Ÿ™‚ The original photo is from a royalty free site but it has undergone some heavy digital editing.
      Well, traditionally I’ve always submitted to journals/magazines/etc and waited for stuff to be published before I post here…but I’ve come to the conclusion that I actually prefer the feedback and friendship I get on this site far more than I enjoy seeing my writing in journals…so posting here much more often is my new plan ๐Ÿ™‚ Thank you for your kindness.

      Liked by 1 person

      • Sure! I’m happy to hear that! I think your enjoyment here will enhance your creativity even more – and I’m sure you would welcome that. And I think you’re really smart for taking that into consideration, so your outlook stays fresh and positive. I will be looking forward to enjoying more of your incredible work for sure!

        Liked by 2 people

  1. I have read this piece now several times, I tend to do that often before commenting because I am always intrigued by the number of ways we can interpret things. ๐Ÿ™‚
    The visual accompanying your words made me think of instantly of the many connotations associated with masks.
    Masks can be fun or a way of hiding in a sense. A mask can be intentional, saying “I am willing to show this side of myself” but with the hope someone will explore further (not just in a physical sense) but the inner workings of the being. A mask can provide a false sense of bravado, sometimes for the things within that one cannot face or accept just yet about themselves. Further, it can represent discontent or a sense of yearning, for a life outside the scope of what one has lived thus far.
    The piece you wrote can be interpreted as meaning lifestyle/life, – or with the words “fingers, parting and probing” it could indicate the individual’s desire to be seen physically in duality, perhaps reserved by day but different by night. The “small death” referred to could be masturbation because another doesn’t fulfill her needs. Yes, I actually blushed typing that which makes me laugh at myself.
    It’s a great piece that can be interpreted in many ways. Excellent, Ryan. I hope you’re doing well. ๐Ÿ™‚

    Liked by 3 people

    • Masturbation?! Wow, you have a dirty mind, Belinda…kidding – you got me perfectly. I really enjoyed your thoughts on the mask – such a big part of what I was trying to convey…the many guises we wear to cover ourselves while often secretly yearning for escape or something more. And yes, your small deaths interpretation is spot on, too – fulfilling unsatisfied need and relieving the day to day humdrum. I’m flattered that you put so much time and effort into reading and analyzing – you are incredibly thoughtful. I hope you’re happy and well ๐Ÿ™‚

      Liked by 2 people

      • Omgosh my face is red! LOL. ๐Ÿ™‚ I just appreciate the many ways when a piece is written, that interpretation can be so varied. “Masks” are incredible in the many connotations they hold. It was an excellent piece. ๐Ÿ™‚ I hope you’re having an amazing day. It’s good to see you post. I am unsure if it’s okay or even can be done, to post it to twitter. I have been enjoying getting to know how that medium of communication works as well. Let me know. ๐Ÿ™‚

        Liked by 2 people

      • Haha, what’s a blush between friends?! Thank you again, I love hearing your thoughts. No idea about Twitter – even WP was a big leap for me. You’re welcome to try if that’s what you are asking. I hope your week is wonderful too, my dear friend ๐Ÿ™‚

        Liked by 1 person

      • I appreciate the comment about blushing, thanks my friend. Would you mind deleting all the comments I made on this post? I know it was lengthy and I looked at the piece in multiple aspects for discussion, but in reading some of the comments, I suspect perhaps my comment was a wee bit uncomfy as I knew it to be addressing yearning and longing in life, though I touched on every aspect possible, I think. ๐Ÿ™‚ Thanks, Ryan. Have a fantastic day. ๐Ÿ™‚

        Liked by 2 people

      • As much as I enjoy your comments and thoughts, I’ll certainly delete them if you now feel uncomfortable about them. I have no issue with anything you’ve written if it’s me you’re concerned about… Of course, I’ll expect another lot of flattering feedback to replace it if you do want me to delete ๐Ÿ˜‰

        Liked by 1 person

  2. Ryan, Iโ€™m just blown away with this. MARVELOUS. The idea that โ€œthe tricksy sun cajoles grey to goldโ€ is so stunning, yet so fleeting. Anything to ease the pain and discipline of daily life. Wonderful write my friend, quite moving. ~ Mia

    Liked by 2 people

  3. I’m glad I read through the comments, as well as the poem, as they confirmed my interpretation. Your poem reads like a painting, to me–absolutely exquisite. And, if I haven’t notified you previously–this is the “old me/Muse” moved to yet another blog home. I’m following you from it, and the old blog will be gone shortly. You are officially invited, welcomed now! “Stella”

    PS, I meant to address a topic mentioned in the comments–that you’ve realized a satisfaction in posting your work on the blog for us to read and rave over, which may have been somewhat lacking in your publications’ works. I am practically leaping in my chair, overjoyed that you’ll be posting more frequently–I am a true, loyal, somewhat crazy “fan” ๐Ÿ™‚

    Liked by 2 people

    • Haha, She-Of-Many-Names ๐Ÿ˜‰ Thank you for your lovely words, friendship and support. It makes me so happy to know this one is being read as I intended it. And, yes – I get much more satisfaction and enjoyment in this forum. I’m only submitting very occasionally elsewhere now and have never been happier writing. I’ll sign up to your new home and say welcome to Stella ๐Ÿ™‚ I haven’t had a chance to look into voice recording for you yet but I haven’t forgotten. Have a magic day and you are a most welcome ‘crazy fan’ lol ๐Ÿ™‚


      • Ohhh, you are a prince, Ryan–you delight my heart! Did I ever tell you that a blogger (and fine writer) once asked me if I was “running from the Mob”–with all these ‘aliases’? There’s really no mystery about it, as WordPress does not delete our accounts–thus we cannot use the same name for however many blogs we open…but I guess most people don’t change blogs like socks… ๐Ÿ™‚ Thank you for following me wherever the road takes me–I appreciate that ๐Ÿ™‚ And thanks very much for remembering that I’ll need some help with voice recording…I think it’s “mixcloud” that is free, and approved for use on WP blogs. I’m not sure I’ll want to read my poetry to y’all, but I might want to talk as I share recipes ๐Ÿ™‚ It is a magical and miraculous day, indeed–thank you, thank you!

        Liked by 2 people

  4. More poems!!! I don’t know how to explain how happy I am to see how much you posted lately. ๐Ÿ˜€ This one is so sad, but oh so beautiful. Your wording is brilliant! I’m quite envious. ;]

    Liked by 2 people

  5. You really are something, aren’t you Ryan!! Who else but you can come up with translucent lady and vodka-chased pill? These are not your everyday mediocre stuff. You are a genius, Mr. Word Weaver. As for the poem, I think the verse opens with the protagonist taking off her mask and letting her hair down. Loneliness is another theme I found here. This is a beautifully crafted piece with so many layers, should a reader choose to pay close attention, as it deserves. I felt a little sad reading this, while marvelling at your poetic prowess. There is a depth deeper than what meets the eye of the surface reader – frustration, loneliness, despair to name a few. “Sliding like a vodka-chased pill” is just so bloody brilliant
    I’m getting intoxicated jist thinking about it. And the second verse…my dear Ryan…is just so so telling…fingers feeling like strangers in a rabbit hole. Need I elucidate any more?
    P.S. I like the way you call ‘it’ the rabbit hole.

    Liked by 2 people

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