Monday, May 14, 2012

Sevenling (The New Day)

impossible flag CXVI (yuuuujuuuu)



Sevenling (The New Day)



Through the white wind I fly my broken bird
head on fire, wax wings worn wide, shedding
singed feathers, ground a heaviness pulling from below

and then I wake again to the next life of this day.
Plucked naked, flame out, no wings to be seen;
a reprieve, or something harder than earth

stonier than the end?




May 2012


posted for    real toads
Open Link Monday


This poem is a sevenling. I first heard of this form through Marian (runaway sentences) when it was referenced on real toads. Here are links to one (two) of her own sevenlings posted on her blog, and also the explanation of the form, derived from a poem of Anna Ahkmatova, at The American Poetry Journal.






Shared under a Creative Commons 2.0 License

26 comments:

  1. whew...some intense imagery to open up with...i like that the wind has color and it contrasts well with the head on fire bird, feathers trailing it as it tries to stay aloft...the new day, a reprieve or just nice to have your feet back on the ground...grounded just a bit....

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  2. Oh, damn...well, here I am again. Waking up can be such a bummer...oh well, gotta pee, so what the hell.

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  3. I love the sevenling, and am constantly amazed how much detail one may pack into the first two stanzas. I love the metaphor you have worked into this poem. really good.

    I love your glorious pink canna. Mine are very bedraggled at the end of the season, and waiting to die down for the winter.

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  4. Both flight and non-flight are rendered difficult in this powerful poem. Wow, kiddo. Fantastic.

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  5. Wonderful combination of Daedelus and real bird and female bird and more. Just great. k.

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  6. Icarus redux? loved the images and formal compactness.very neatly crafted.

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  7. "a reprieve, or something harder than earth" hmmm...lots to ponder.

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  8. This is so intensely visual. Wow!

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  9. Creative take on the new day ~ I like the poetry offering ~

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  10. Never mind the forecast, cos the sky has lost control...

    I like this muchly, dear Witch, and i also love that picture with the blue and the white feathers!

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  11. I see I'm not the only one thinking of Icarus. I'm always curious about unfamiliar forms. I'll go have a look to...after a reread.

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  12. You are quite stunning dear friend...I hope you know that. I have to laugh because that end line reminds me of the line from Pet Sematary "A man's heart is stonier Louis"...lol. sorry. This had the epic feel of Greek mythology and the scariness of end times all rolled into one. The fact that the last line is a question, is like icing on a big piece of chocolate cake (with ice cream) (or an icy glass of milk).

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  13. Good one Hedge. It's all good but I really like: "the next life of this day".

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  14. Strikes me as rebirth, but I hope it is less disconcerting... probably not.

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    1. That would be disconcerting, but...you keep hoping..

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  15. I visioned a Phoenix at first mmm yup I did... then a mere mortal

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  16. We never know for sure, gifted with such wackadoodle minds for hearts. No rebirth without dying, no flight without a least the memory of full-broken wings, no labyrinth until we can perceive it from a higher angle of getting fully lost. Or are we just wired to sing, even after all the wires are cut? - Brendan

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  17. I like short forms like this sometimes, and yours is effective with its dense imagery, its cycle of a day's falling and rising. Sometimes I think the hope is in the dying, so as to be born again.

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  18. beautiful! and oh yay, I FORGOT ABOUT THE SEVENLING (*runs to work on a new one*)

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  19. Joy, This is very full--Icarus flew to escape his fate. We can maybe do that in dreams, much harder to do in the waking world. Filled with striking images. The lines "...something harder than earth/stonier than the end?" bring such a ringing finality, even granting the question mark. Excellent distillation of ideas, and execution.

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  20. As always, your imagery is incredible.

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  21. Wow, that was one hell of a night. Wonderful (and slightly painful) imagery there. I'm not sure which would be worse, continuing the dream or waking up to face another stony day.

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  22. Oh so good, love the flow of this and the ending...pow!

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  23. This might be my favorite of your poems.

    Now see, this is exactly why I love short poetry. Every single word has the potential to punch hard in the gut, and that is just what you did here.

    Dreaming of being Icarus? Oh my, and that ending. Which is worse---death or undeath? I really love this.

    My very favorite words:
    "Through the white wind I fly my broken bird head on fire"
    "to the next life of this day"

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  24. I agree with all above. Often I read your poems and "see" them as amazing illustrations! You paint poems ;)

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