Saturday, June 9, 2012

Wind Storm

Wind Storm



The sun is a bleeding blur, an unsliced
orange at mold, floating sangria’d in sour wine
on a bent stem of grey horizon banked with
mazy clouds, single eye dull as dead fish.
For two days and two nights
the wind has fought the chimney, jousting
with a lance of dust red air in quick
berserker wheezes, stiff blows, rattling
roaring, grinding the limbs of the stainless steel rose
against the guttering with harsh metallic shrieks.
The trees, the tentative plants on the patio and I
all are learning to live sideways.

For ten days and ten nights
I’ve tried to say goodbye
into the hollow where you were
to let the wave wash over me
to let my heartbeat pound alone
to dig the drifting sand away from your last
stone tablet and read what's written there,
but the wind blows in circles
moans and pelts my eyes with sting
till I give up, open my hand to
let the last grain of you
fly off on its back.

May~June 2012



Posted for   Poetics   at dVerse Poets Pub
Prompt by Brian Miller:It's a Matter of Choice


Audio:



Image: Landscape in Stormy Weather, Vincent Van Gogh
chalk and paper study, 1885
Public domain via Wikipaintings.org

27 comments:

  1. Love the textures and visuals here, Hedge, and the recording enhances beautifully. :)

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  2. oh my....deeply emotional...esp considering i just read helens journal entry on her mom's alzheimers and got to thinking about my MILs passing...the last stanza the last bits flying out the hand...the stone tablet...a hard letting go...

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  3. Hey Hedge-- first, so great to hear you read. It put the poem in a completely different perspective in terms of its dynamics - crescendo and denouement. Really interesting. Also brought out all the consonants, and a certain gutteral (in the best sense of the word) quality in the jam of words and wind of first stanza.

    Such an interesting close here with the grain of sand having its own back; its own personhood, and one that frankly feels a lot more carefree than the holder-on's. Well done. k.

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    1. Thank you, k. It's kind of odd still trying to read it for others. Glad it was useful. I actually meant, fly away on the wind's back, but I like your reading better--and you say you're not a poet.;)

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  4. "The trees, the tentative plants on the patio and I
    all are learning to live sideways." Ah .. love this - so well thought out.

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  5. I love the audio, brings the poem to life.

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  6. I enjoyed the audio read Hedge ~ Your voice gave it an added depth and character ~ I like the sun and the trees learning to live sideways ~

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  7. "The sun is a bleeding blur," - this line will stay with me for a long time

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  8. The wind storm just makes the letting go seem even more sad, haunting and difficult. Your reading lent a supportive texture to your poem..you did a good job of it.

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    1. Thanks so much. Maybe someday it will feel a bit more natural.

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  9. first...loved the read..so special to be able to listen to it in the poet's voice, underlines the depth of emotions in this piece.. so tough to let go..such a fight...great images to define the loss...let my heartbeat pound alone..is my fav

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  10. There is the sangria'd orange at the start and then the storm carries you through til the last grain flys off with the receding of the storm... Lovely.

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  11. So much emotion here, found it hard to read because of current events in my own life, but brilliantly done. Excellent use of textures. All the better for hearing it in your voice.

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  12. Beautifully written and beautifully read, a thoroughly ejoyable experience. Thank you so much.

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  13. The image of the wind blowing you and the world sideways is very powerful, given the sorrow of the circumstances. I'm sorry so much heartache has come into your life. You turn your pain into powerful song, and I found amazing lines amid your sorrow. If pain is learned thru language, as Wittgenstein says, then language can help us transform pain into an avenue for learning about ourselves, perhaps allowing us to grow in depth and understanding of our place in life. These things make us deeper in the sense that we see more out of and in life, which is a gift in many ways, because otherwise we might not see what's going on around us, take too much for granted and ignore both beauty and truth. As it is, this is a lovely poem, transmuting sorrow to gateway of the soul.

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  14. Have I told you how much I love your writing? The image and the sound of the wind, the 2 days and nights extending the 10 days and nights, the attempt "to say goodbye / into the hollow where you were" . . . "but the wind blows in circles / moans and pelts my eyes with sting / till I give up." The wind defeats the linear narrative, and that last grain (never the last) will return and return on its back. I love your insights. Here the picture "wind storm" (yours?) makes grief visible to me as well.

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    1. Van Gogh--he could draw the wind like no one else on the planet. Thanks, Susan.

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  15. Very cool Hedge. Love how you approached this. Awesome visuals, really painted the setting greatly. The recording is such a cool bonus. Thanks

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  16. Oh! This is stunning. What a gorgeous piece.
    Love this, especially:
    "to let my heartbeat pound alone
    to dig the drifting sand away from your last
    stone tablet and read what's written there"

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  17. "The trees, the tentative plants on the patio and I
    all are learning to live sideways."

    nice lines! i like the thickness of your description (bent stem of grey horizon banked with mazy clouds) there are no empty spaces in your imagery, no empty filler. very well written. ive enjoyed reading your poetry so far, and look forward to reading more.

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  18. that's such a beautiful story, so descriptive, love the images, especially the way i can feel the wind



    Princess Vadar

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  19. You bring your scene to audio visual life.
    Thank you for "Wind Storm"...

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  20. the deep beauty in this piece is alarming, in an awakened and aware kind of way. so much texture and action. love it. ~jane

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  21. That may be the most original, startling description of the sun that I have ever read. I savored that.

    "learning to live sideways" is such a rich image, too, and suits the broader meaning perfectly.

    No matter what we tell ourselves, love is never free and never without serious risk, or it isn't love. I've always looked askance at the euphemisms people use for love, when it's over and they don't want to own it, or when it is someone else's love and they don't want to respect it: "infatuation" and all of those. As far as i can tell, love is love. It may last a lifetime or an evening, it may bring a sigh or a tsunami, but love is still love. Show me the difference.

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  22. The wind storm drawing enhances the desolation of the poem.Letting the last grain go is so final and the door slams shut forever.

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  23. so amazing to hear you READ!..love your voice and what it brings to this piece. the poem made me think of grief- (either death or lost love). the use of the elements to depict emotion is fantastic...and ive felt it, seen this before, hence why this poem struck such a chord with me. In temrs of choice, maybe this poem talks about how we have NO choice when it comes to saying goodbye- we HAVE to- at some point, whether it is a conscious of unconscious decision. this pice just took me inside someones mind- their world- the storm inside their heads, and that moment of having to let go. So good...seriously

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