Tuesday, March 8, 2011

String of Beads




String of Beads


A circle’s string of beads decks out a hook
beside a broken wishbone on a nail,
a mouse’s skull within a warded nook,
all relics hidden from the cyclone’s tail
and given me to make a summer song.
Sharp shadows thrown by arbitrary light
convinced my heart that time had right or wrong,
unlike the void that opened with the night;
that will could make things speak that had no tongue
and days be numbered in a wheel of sense
with grace, like beads so innocently strung
beside the broken bones for recompense—
but now I draw a breath in quick dismay
to find the sickly smell of sweet decay.



January, 2011





Posted for OneShotWednesday at the inimitable OneStopPoetry



This sonnet previously appeared for the January Creative Challenge at Facial Expressions Poetry Circle, on Facebook



33 comments:

  1. Oh what a nice read and to "make things speak that had no tongue" a sonnet that opens the door between two worlds in that search for truth....what else to say but Love it!!...bkm

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  2. Thats a Moose Skull?
    It looks just like a Caribou to me!
    (I tease you witchy...hehehehe)
    Loved your Sonnet...Bardess.

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  3. Can deacy ever be sweet?
    Maybe, surely, after reading this masterpiece!

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  4. Great little sonnet Joy! Decay can smell sweet, in a sickly kind of way.I thought after reading the first few lines you were writing about an altar of some sort and then I saw the bigger picture. Great writing Joy, I'm too wuss to try another sonnet for a while! We'll see what tis month brings time wise!

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  5. I keyed on the same phrase that bkm liked. That arbitrary light seeming to give things a grace they may not really possess lulls us, yes? But leave it to the witch of the hedge to remind us that there's more of grave than gravy here.

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  6. The title had me fooled! lol What a wonderful and original write! Again, I am so impressed, the form perfect, the words, enough to make one's head spin. And yes, can be quite alarming when that sweet stench breaks out...

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  7. decay may smell sweet...and it does...but then i am left wondering what have i lost now...and dont we in our writing give tongues to things otherwise mute...smiles.

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  8. Provocative, in a strange way - in that I can't define it (either that, or I shouldn't have drank Pepsi and after chewing my gummy vitamins. . . those WERE vitamins, I hope.)

    Anyhow, effective, distinctive - one of the most distinctive of the works I've read in the past few hours - and exemplary.

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  9. Joy Ann, absolutely distinctive and smoothly written.

    Pamela

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  10. Creates such a tension in pairings, this summer song, strings of relics both beautiful in a half-light, yet normal seen as revolting to many. The final line is very revealing in recalling the reality of sickness spread through a decay that might in a certain instances appear to lose its sickening qualities. Great writing; never disappointed here.

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  11. ". . . days be numbered in a wheel of sense."

    That speaks to me more than I can say.

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  12. Writing this must have been like deciphering the Rosetta Stone. The rhymes you chose aren't easy and as they are end words they magnify the sensory effects you build throughout the piece. Then your choice of images so disparate but so carefully chosen to say it just right, to get that perfect nuance between beauty and revulsion. Oh my God..for sure!

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  13. put together beautifully. enjoyed reading this very much.

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  14. I love sharp shadows thrown by arbitrary light-- the distinctive pairings there-- and of course, the sonnet-music. I think you need "dresses up a hook" in line 1-- also love broken wishbone on a nail-- so powerful-- and the mouse's skull in a nook of warded light-- your diction so sure, "deft" in the way of the Irish poets. Lovely! xj

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  15. Pays to read the comments, now I know your name is Joy...sweet...but not like the mouse! LOL

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  16. I like it. Its a bit abstract and has a Edgar Allan Poe feel to it.

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  17. very intense this one is!

    but now I draw a breath in quick dismay
    to find the sickly smell of sweet decay
    I read the sadness n I know the feeling!!

    Love xx

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  18. The sonnet in your deft hands, as expected! Decay made sublime in your lines. All lines, the whole poem should be quoted here. I've recited it and even my voice didn't seem mine. What joy! What Joy to thank you as always.

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  19. Many thanks all for taking the time to come around and read and leave your impressions.

    @Shan: I still hate sonnets. No plans for another but you go girl.

    @FB: there's got to be another poem hiding in your comment.

    @MZ: that's really the pivot of the piece there, I think.

    @Gay god yes--this was one of the most frustrating things I've ever worked with. Glad you liked it and appreciated the blood sweat and tears.

    @jennrevved Fixed. Thanks for catching it.

    @Timoteo: don't know about sweet, but there's nothing about me that's like a mouse. ;_)

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  20. Inside a Shamans hut. I like the swirl of time in the words...they're like mice sniffing out crooks and crannies in a cave.

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  21. Ah the things we humans will pull together to try to touch the so very easily touchable. Good speak here J.

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  22. Amen, sister. My reading here shows both the power and futility of poetry, dowsing to a wisdom which is both heavenly and infernal only to discover that there isn't enough language to avoid the door through which "the sickly smell of sweet decay" spoors. I think there IS gravy in the grave, at least to fill a very sharp pen like yours with a shamanic, witchy acumen: but there is a weariness in the labor, knowing that in the end it's just another page filled with ink. My take. As usual, it burns; but I will never toss these poems off as typical brilliance. Question is, how do you penetrate still deeper? This reader awaits. - Brendan

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  23. all relics hidden from the cyclone’s tail
    and given me to make a summer song

    and a poetic song you have woven together. your poetry gives rise to words and thoughts that can indeed "make things speak that had no tongue"...sometimes words are born in the mind, sometimes in the belly, you have a way of feeling your gut and writing from your heart and mind...beautifully done, again.

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  24. this was a clever, well written poem....enjoyed this very much..pete

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  25. That was a wonderful write! I really loved it! So very beautiful in a very special way. One of my favorites for sure!

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  26. ..making things speak that had no tongue..you for sure do this...love your sonnet joy

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  27. I love the broken wishbone on the hook, and the line "and given me to make a summer song" especially. Your rhyming and metre are perfection. So lovely a read!

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  28. Sharp shadows thrown by arbitrary light
    convinced my heart that time had right or wrong,
    unlike the void that opened with the night;
    that will could make things speak that had no tongue
    and days be numbered in a wheel of sense
    with grace, like beads so innocently strung

    Fabulous poem. I noticed several other commenters picked these lines or part of as the ones that spoke to them.

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  29. It is a lovely sonnet. Simply lovely. I like the way it sounds when read out loud,

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  30. Seriously Joy.. with your GOD-AWESOME poetry, you can make even the smell of decay seem sweet!
    Loved this dark yet musical read!
    And what's it about voids this week eh?! Interesting how we you and I referred to that in our one shot poems.. hehehe.. Gotta avoid them for a while now :)

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  31. The rhythm, the flow, the imagery - just gorgeous, hedgewitch.

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  32. A great imagery of decay.. and how things move on living off living.. I liked your words...

    ॐ नमः शिवाय
    Om Namah Shivaya
    http://shadowdancingwithmind.blogspot.com/2011/03/whispers-memories-from-living.html
    At Twitter @VerseEveryDay

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'Poetry is an echo asking a shadow to dance' ~Carl Sandburg