Thursday, February 23, 2012

Leaves of Absence

Pressed Leaves




Leaves of Absence


One comes
while another leaves.
One afternoon 
becomes
 a month of falling leaves.

The long job
of loving needs
a leave of falling months,
leave to go
 re-leaved,
tho leaving is grieving
gone is better so;

to leave
Love's little fat god
smirking,
 pleased to
take each sacrifice
and close his till,
scattering
dead leaves.



February 2012



55 falling leaves for    the G-Man







Thanks, Petteri.

As well as sharing his photographic talents on flick'r, Petteri blogs eclectically at 
 Come to think of itan always interesting read.

29 comments:

  1. dang...nice symposium on leaves...and twisting the tongue through the middle of it to...smiles...nice dance to your words...and that god smiles as he closes that till you know...smiles.

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  2. The little fat god with a till, smirking, is priceless. No unicorns here.

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  3. Love this word dance! That second stanza is awesome.

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  4. Thanks, all--I'll be around tomorrow to make the rounds.

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  5. I beleave this was Unbeleavable!
    I just love clever word play.
    Loved your 55
    Thanks for playing, and have a Kick Ass Week-End

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  6. Incredible word play ... and a touch of melancholy. Excellent.

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  7. You couldn't just leave the leaves at that could you? I, too, love the little fat god closing his till on each sacrifice. Grand 55!

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  8. You do love to twist my little heart. :-) What a dirty devil Cupid is here, ending out the month of V Day with a leap and a finger banged in the till. Youch. Nice wordplay, as if the wind kept scattering and dropping the leaves in new positions.

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    1. Thanks Ruth--this one just sort of blew in with the leaves. You totally nailed what i was going for--appreciate you stopping by, as always.

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  9. I'm not sure I could read that out loud. But it definitely chimed in my head. Nice one.

    My 55 are here.

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  10. So much to love about the content of this poem, but I am also struck by your form and technique here: the repetition, and the assonance of the 'ea' that seems to cascade down the lines. Superb work.

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    1. Thanks, Kerry. I enjoy doing these 55's very much now, though when I started they nearly killed me--they are indeed an exercise in form, and like all form, force you to bend your words and pay much more attention to them.

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  11. This is just terrific. For me the first few stanzas resonated the most, and cupid was a bit of an interloper! Although he works very well, and that was perhaps his purpose. It was just so lyrical and lovely.

    Every time I read your work, I become more and more conscious that I really am a prose writer! I don't know why I've gotten into poetry--perhaps because of working so many hours at my job--I find it difficult to keep novels going at night. Though when I read your work, I become conscious that this is not truly my realm--as a reader, yes--but I cannot think in such lyrical terms. I have to get back to prose, I think=-not quite sure how--

    This just lovely, in other words.

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    1. Karin, I admire very much that you can write prose--it's a high calling and one I am completely and totally incapable of even attempting--these sort of shorthand vignettes are all my mind can do. Never denigrate your talent with poetry--not every style lends itself to the same tones or approaches--that's what makes poetry so individualistic and idiosyncratic, and why one writer is idolized by some and leaves others going 'meh.' You are an excellent poet--I very much like your own unique approach and you say a lot with it. So there! ;_) Thanks for your very kind words here.

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  12. Such a bittersweet homage to the little man in the boat of the heart of the moon - leaves come and go, the way love does, each season necessary and both happy and sad in their own way. And in the end, the altar statue goes untended, old prayers go unanswered, and departure is the necessary consequent of all arrivals. Very fine weave here, Hedge - B

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    1. Thanks for reading, B. In my experience you can tend the altar all you want, it makes no ultimate difference.

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  13. Dear JoyAnn: Always haunting witchingly so and I so much feel from this poem a tree "losing" it's precious "leaves"; my fav line;

    take each sacrifice

    Love the theme of sacrifice which plays prominently in your body of amazing literature~

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  14. Fun, fun stuff. And so creative. Enjoyed it much! Leaving now. D

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  15. Aww...sad, but sometimes you have to leave. :( I liked that little fat God too. Must be a way to bribe him.

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  16. Leave it to you to come up with this.

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  17. This is beautiful and poignant. I loved the meter and format very much.....it felt rather Emily-ish and quite wonderful.

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  18. Joy,

    Funny, I'm working on a piece now that features fallen leaves. I hope it turns out as taut and pithy as yours did. Nice job.

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  19. Love this! And now I'll take my leave...

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  20. English is such a great language, love what you do with it!

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  21. Awesome. Love the play with word and their arrangement. :)

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  22. from leaves to Love's little fat god ~ a joy to read and an amazing 55!

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  23. Image- and action-tight read. Good read!

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Wallace Stevens said,"Thought is an infection. In the case of certain thoughts, it becomes an epidemic." Feel free to spread the plague here.

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