Prime Mother

Diana, Princess of Wales, photo Trout, date unknown

Oh, prime mother, are you blind to the dross, godly entail,
Bequeathed to your progeny.
The subtle subtext lacing that foaming effervescent sea.
 
This bequest was yours alone to give.
It was seen in the faces & hearts.
In the flowers that lined & made your final bed.
 
Would you recognize him, the smile situated plainly;
Under guile and toothy gums when pageantry is gone,
& the lights dim.
Will he still be your sweet gentle ingenuous child.
 
Oh, prime mother does he dream of you still,
& does that image wax & press within it
The promise susurrated, the unaffected life.
 
The image, you censured.
Does he hear you anymore;
Does he acknowledge the implications;
 
Oh, prime mother, your smile still shines in his eyes.
Let your open arms adorn him.
Let the humble pathos be conceded.
 
No more to be suborned in convenient conventionality.
Upset the sett- tear the style from your bosom.
Oh, Primal mother, hear our plea.

The monarchial choir, where Bobbies nod refrains
A hideous discordant act of duty.
Throw the cockade to the sea.
Channel a ballooning polluted pledge to aristocracy.
 
Turn your airbrushed cheek, rosette powdered & keen
To the last; hinting, abiding for that silent kiss.
Would we be remiss to stand on, awaiting, for;
Her slight form to hail us from beyond.
 
Oh, Prime mother, your anthem has been, acceded
To the halls of the aged and the poor, whose little limbs
Frail as tinder, lovely embers lit the hillocks.
 
Crackling & spinning, dwindling & dying.
Furious lights descending the hearse’s motor now diminishing
The flame she lit as none before.
 
* For Princess Diana of Wales

From Hammer of God, Copyright © 2018 Aria Ligi, Poetic Justice Books and on Amazon









3 Replies to “Prime Mother”

  1. Beautiful. A woman’s heart is a deep mystery. I think Diana had a lot of secret misery and longing and Aria’s poem brings out the fascination the world has with her. Each verse is delicate and resonate.

    1. The central question that Ligi posits in her tribute to the late Queen of Hearts, Princess Diana, is one she might pose to her sons, William and Henry: if she was to return from the dead, would she see that they took to heart her bequest to them and that they had not merely paid lip service to what she stood for? Ligi emphasizes that Diana’s gift to the world was her model character, that is, her morals, tenderness, empathy for others less fortunate than she, and her remarkably generous and forgiving soul. The query goes further, as Ligi lays out the case for an expansive view of how one should treat his/her fellow human being, always using Diana’s beacon to remind us of that eternal flame, that light within her that drove the darkness of evil away.

      In today’s world, and specifically Britain, where the NHS is on the brink of collapse, fascism is on the rise, and a bloodthirsty racist nationalism and rapacious corporatism in the May government have taken control, these questions are more pertinent than ever. Diana would not have been happy with these developments and she would have expected her sons to have rejected fascism and racism in all its multifarious forms. Ligi urges world leaders to comport themselves nobly and exemplify through their leadership the best of civilization and not the worst. Her poem Prime Mother serves to remind us that Diana’s life, through her efforts on behalf of children, the poor, those with AIDS, the impoverished in Africa, and those at risk from landmines, was a noble one and serves as a guiding light for all of mankind.

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