Tuesday, October 2, 2012

Summer Snow



1045 - Star Seamless Texture




Summer Snow




On nights when that ache is all I have
to keep me breathing
I sit outside and pour 
from a starspeckled
pitcher the black river sky
into my hollow heart

let it soak away all thought
all care
until I rest, a lump of carbon
cold
lapped in cold
immersed in a hypothermia

of what needs to be forgiven
or forgotten. A blind face
stares at me out of darkness
its breath turned to frost,
a scuttling black spot
on a white-out vision.  

Above me stars
revolve in ancient rites
unfulfilled
yet moving towards some point
where fulfillment doesn't show
past the simple beyond of what I can know

past this summer snow, 
melting as it watches from below

~September 2012






Posted for OpenLinkNight   at dVerse Poets Pub
I'm hosting at the pub tonight and hope you can make it in to share some hot mulled poetry with us on this early fall evening. Doors are open from 3:00pm to midnight tomorrow, EST.






Shared under a Creative Commons license



56 comments:

  1. Above me stars
    revolve in ancient rites
    unfulfilled
    yet moving towards some point
    where fulfillment doesn't show

    Sometimes things take a turn for the worst. One gets so depressing. But still insisting in wanting to be heard. Nicely Joy!

    Hank

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  2. Astonishingly beautiful poem, I think. The thing is that the sound is so beautiful, as well as the content. First couple of lines take one's breath away with shared pain, then opens up in that black river sky and hollowed heart with such a beautiful flow.

    I love the wordplay of cold rather than coal (with the lumped) and the lapped in cold, and of course, the numbness anything but.

    Past the simple beyond of what I can know just great line.

    Really lovely poem. k.

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  3. This is one of those wonderful writes that seem to come from deep, not so wonderful places. But what came to mind as I read it was that lumps of carbon (squeezed) become diamonds, which is already how I would describe you.

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  4. gives me a chill . . . but a work of beauty . . . huge atmosphere
    and weight behind this, but the sense of bright light holds the whole like a snowdome . . . a solar snowdome containing a poet meditating on the moon - . . . your flaring my imagination with the title alone - always inspirational hedge

    hope you are well

    arron

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    1. Thanks arron--your comment is a poem itself.

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  5. hedge..what i just love about this is the honest voice...the transparency...the capture of the atmosphere...think most of us have sat like that from time to time and can relate...can feel how it feels...open pores in this one...i like much..and happy hosting...can't wait til you open the doors

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  6. some really wonderful imagery hedge...i love the sitting on the deck and the pitcher you pour....taking the sky into your heart and its vastness would be rather a beautiful thing i think...the lump of carbon, that which needs forgotten, oy got a bit of that...and the face staring back...all really cool and mystical...nice rhyming there in the end as well...looking forward to your hosting...smiles.

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  7. Dark yet pregnant with a translucent transcendence. A real stunner.

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  8. ...love the depth and expance of the images here, the pitcher pouring, the summer snow... and "let it soak away all thought all care"..

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  9. the beauty in melancholy, you say it so well.

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  10. This is lovely - rhythmic and reflective. I often find snow poems appeal to me. :)

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  11. So lovely I want to eat every word of it. The first stanza just knocked me over.

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  12. You have a way of expression that is anything but simple, but yet the simple heart understands.
    It's as if your words instruct, lead, as they go along.
    This was quite sad, especially the second stanza, but maybe only because i internalized.
    Wonderful write, hw
    ~rick

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  13. Joy, this poem is gorgeous! Love it!

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  14. "I sit outside and pour
    from a starspeckled
    pitcher the black river sky
    into my hollow heart

    let it soak away all thought
    all care
    until I rest . . . "

    Summer snow and cold are rare as frost, white out, melting as it touches down. Clear metaphor for the kind of chill and stasis that can tke over for a minute in the face of so much to redeem while the stars keep on toward their unseen destination

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  15. Beautiful write, some great expressive lines.."On nights when that ache is all I have
    to keep me breathing"...what an opening!

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  16. yeah, sometimes i just need to melt away into a big black puddle of shadow, just stop existing... i get this. very well said joy (and hope you're feeling better)

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  17. Joy, this is stunning. Simply stunning. Love "past the simple beyond of what I can know."

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  18. The atmosphere you have created with this poem is breathtaking. So many lovely thoughts...

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  19. Hon, the idea of those clouded stars as summer snow is so beautiful. You should try and publish this one, truly. Glad you found a flickr photo so you don't get the "naughty you" email from The Powers That Be!!

    Really wonderful entry for Open Mic. Like I said, submit this! Peace, Amy http://sharplittlepencil.com/2012/10/02/slp-is-back-creative-juices/

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  20. Incredible. So much pain melting through the lines. The image is gorgeous used in conjunction with the title. I love the repetition of "cold" and then the melting at the end.

    Your first two lines are universal, regardless of the circumstances. And the ache you describe is so wobbly as it walks the line between giving breath and taking it away.

    "let it soak away all thought all care ... of what needs to be forgiven or forgotten" If only the sky would be so kind.

    Beautiful work, Joy Ann.

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  21. This is beautiful. I especially like "a scuttling black spot
    on a white-out vision".

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  22. Stunning piece! Love the imagery and emotion.

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  23. Wow, this is a wonderful poem! The first stanza really got me.

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  24. A gorgeous piece... Almost other-wordly. Your choice of words paint the most wonderful images in my mind.

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  25. Joy, I love this. The first stanza really drew me in. The blind face, very mysterious.

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  26. It's hard to let go of the hypothermia. It almost makes one delusional. Sometimes one thinks it's all one has. Nice Alan Parsons. Great Poe story. "Tis the season. It's funny, I've been thinking about him, Kesey and the leaves.

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  27. past the simple beyond of what I can know' - lovely Joy - totally immersed and drawn in this - Lib

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  28. "Above me stars revolve in ancient rites unfulfilled
    yet moving towards some point where fulfillment doesn't show
    past the simple beyond of what I can know past this summer snow,
    melting as it watches from below . . ."

    So lovely the longing for the mysterious! --surrounding ourselves in what is and what will be -- lovely writing Joy!

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  29. The first and third stanzas are pure vintage Hedgewitch. I *love* that pitcher of sky.

    How do you write about bleakness so vividly? It would seem to be a contradiction in terms, and yet, there it is.

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  30. I felt comforted after reading. I guess we don't know what the future holds but there's things to see when it comes.

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  31. This is beautiful Hedge specially the first two stanzas ~

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  32. I love love love this. I know these kind of nights.

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  33. This takes my breath away. There is so much pain and emptiness echoing throughout it. Your words speak of a pain I suspect we have all felt, but didn't understand enough to describe it. You've done it for us.

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  34. This is my favorite part. Deliciously desperate.
    "I sit outside and pour
    from a starspeckled
    pitcher the black river sky"

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  35. painfully wonderful.
    thanks for the words(and the prompt)!

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  36. Extraordinarily lovely... I feel as if dunked in a river of new life pulsing with promise.

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  37. Breathtaking opening stanza. I love the image of watching the frost appear. I think of us, in the way of movement, much like those stars, "revolve in ancient rites... moving towards some point."

    p.s.~We planted Snow in the Summer this year and ended up with gorgeous crawling, speckled blooms.

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  38. Beautiful...Above me stars revolve in ancient rites unfulfilled
    yet moving towards some point where fulfillment doesn't show
    past the simple beyond of what I can know...I too sit out under the stars and contemplate. The night sky and moon was my guardian when I struggled with my painful childhood.

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  39. A stunner... and you hook from the very beginning. I love the "starspeckled pitcher"...Beautiful throughout. :))

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  40. very cool Hedge. Absolutely love the of what needs to be forgiven stanza, forgotten=blind=darkness=black spot, contrasted so nicely by, stares=frost=white-out=vision, and the tie back between blindness and vision--exceptional stanza here. also love carbon cold, and stars revolved in ancient rites. Fantastic read. Thanks

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  41. beautifully flowing...though at one point i felt that the metaphors were being forced...but...it ended on an astonishingly natural note...lovely ...:)

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  42. stars revolving in ancient rites...liked it much...achingly lovely read..thanks..

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  43. Wonderfully written, flowing words that bring the sense of dismay, a reflection that eats away at the soul.... A very human emotion and i think you captured it well..

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  44. Absolutely beautiful and breathtaking, Joy Ann. I love the first stanza, as a whole the poem speaks to me about forgetting regret.

    Pamela

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  45. I can't imagine a more breathtaking opening line. This is entire piece is an exquisite example of craft.

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  46. Back for a second read...
    Your skill with metaphor amazes me. Telling one tale while telling another is a difficult task that you master here. As always, your diction is spot on.

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  47. love how you use hypothermia... but it's the whole chill-build that leaves such a frosty sense of absence. Beautifully modulated.

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  48. In a way, this poem is very different from what I generally read from your offerings: which is, to me, without pigeon-holing you....a genuine voice of Celtic verse....the mystical, mythological poems that stretch from eon to eon.

    This one, Hedge, is with raw tissue ripped open....romantic in the best of ways, translucent, and absolutely haunting.

    I wonderful poem of longing and loss....and suspended on a sharp wire.

    Lady Nyo

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  49. i enjoy your skillful stalking of beauty. "... where fulfillment doesn't show.... past this summer snow" you bring mystery to an almost understandable place. wonderful.

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  50. Oh my, I love this mystical, magical interlude, hedge. This brings home the truth that there is so much beyond our understanding.

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  51. I love this! Every perfect, perfectly placed word.

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  52. Just when I think you couldn't move me more than I already have been...you effortlessly do it again and again. Truly, you tap into something so deep within and can express it with such flawless appeal. Excellence.

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  53. i know i say it all too often, but this is one of my favorites of all your amazing poetry, Joy! i see the stars revolving in their ancient rites and it takes my breath away. stunning!


    d

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  54. Breathtakingly beautiful reflections.

    Anna :o]

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