Wednesday, October 31, 2012

Amant Fantôme








Amant Fantôme




In the time of hollowing oaks
in the gauzy dark there came
a rattle and a pounce.
Memory the housebreaker
stole the lintel from
the dolmen, drank the juice
that sports the flower, 
chipped the rime 
from the quicksilver lips
of the ghost that lights my heart.

In the time of moon-eyes' spying,
in the white night there came
a kiss like falling rain
a laugh like falling leaves
a stroke of stormgrey clouds,
and love was a combing,
a black floodtide 
that drowns
as it recedes.

~October 2012






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Ella's Challenge: Hallows Edge


Ella asks us to write a poem of ghosts, borrowing a line from another writer.

The line "In the days of night riders" inspired the opening stanza lines here, as directed in the prompt, and  is taken from a favorite poem by Yusef Komunyakaa, Blue Dementia. All copyright belongs to the copyright holders. I have altered the line because I don’t like to use others' work verbatim.





Image: The Abbey in the Oakwood, by Caspar David Friedrich
public domain, via wikipaintings.org


23 comments:

  1. oooh "love was a combing." how inkishly wondrous :)

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  2. A wonderful poem, Joy - can't tell which stanza I like best - there is a lovely jolt that comes from the rattle and pounce, and I love memory the housebreaker, the stealing of the lintel and chipped rime - but all those similes in the second stanza are pretty terrific as well - the laugh like falling leaves perhaps my favorite - and love combing - and reversal of tides - I think of a tsunami type of thing that gets you either coming or going, though of course, it's a bit more sneaky here. k.

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    1. Thanks, k. Yes, that's what I was going for, that undertow.

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  3. I love this...i love the combing that drowns as it recedes. I almost wrote from that exact same poem.

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    1. He's a fantastic poet--way too little read, imo. I especially like that one. Thanks, Susie.

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  4. Yes, Hedge
    That sucking sound after the drawing back.
    Perhaps better to have loved and lost is not always true, but would knowing that matter?
    And perhaps the house breaking ghost is simply our way of holding on.
    A lot of great word play in here

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    1. Hey, I've sent for the exorcist before--it doesn't work. Thanks rick.

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  5. and love was a combing,
    a black floodtide
    that drowns
    as it recedes....dang....what a great closure on this...rather chilling actually in the wake of the storm....the rattle and pounce gives nice texture early on as well...

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  6. Well~the head spinning and cussing happen, but turns out the demons enjoy that show

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  7. I like this:

    " a kiss like falling rain
    a laugh like falling leaves"

    In view of recent real-world events, those last three lines are extra chilling.

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  8. One MUST read this aloud for true effect. Damaging either way, coming or going... Yes, makes me think of the recent storm, Sandy.

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  9. Truly dramatic! This is a great write.

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  10. Beautiful Hedge ~ I specially like the second stanza ~

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  11. This is all I hoped it would be~
    I looove these lines:
    " a kiss like falling rain
    a laugh like falling leaves
    a stroke of stormgrey clouds,
    and love was a combing,
    a black floodtide
    that drowns
    as it recedes"
    Beautiful poem!

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  12. There is magic in your poem .. 'chipped the rime from the quicksilver lips' ~ what a visual! For me, the best line of all.

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  13. This is brilliant. I agree with Helen, there is magic here, especially in the final stanza.

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  14. I like the twist here: an amorous haunting and a ghost to light up one's heart. Makes me think of all the lost loves.

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  15. A fabulous write, Joy, so perfect with that photo. I love the first line of the second stanza, as well as "a stroke of stormgrey clouds" — wow!
    K

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  16. "honey, I know something about talking with ghosts...." Blue dementia....awesome...jazz poetry...so cool. I like how you went with it. It's got a beat.

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  17. Wonderful how this rolls off the tongue...and the imagery is marvelous..smiles

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  18. there really is magic in your stuff. moon eyes spying and drowns as it recedes were my favs. i can sink into this mood you create here.

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