Tuesday, January 8, 2013

Stormcrow






Stormcrow



Stormcrow
catch me if you can.
Circle and dive as I collapse
in a brick arpeggio,
shattering harpsichord ice bells.
Blow the thaw jazzed as a discord 
down from the burning brass horn
of your craw.
Set your ebonyblue wings acrawl, wind
moonpock shadows on my shoulders, 
your gaze a crackling smoke
of black wildflowers
flamed in the wickered willow
of your yellow eye.

Stormcrow
weep me out another winter
after the fall. I've been waiting,
rebuilding my broken bone box
here in your cold penumbra, 
seen how you 
cock your too cunning head,
pretend to pace on crooked toes, seen
how you love hovering high
showing one crescent feather of
a starbead-bright galaxy, hiding the
brush of full dark; still
I know tomorrow you'll catch me
if you can, my stormcrow
if you can.

~January 2013




If you'd like to hear this poem read by the author, please click below:




Image: Wheatfield with Crows, Vincent Van Gogh, 1890
Public domain, via wikipaintings.org

30 comments:

  1. Oh my, I am in love. This is my new favorite of yours. I have a thing for crows anyway, and this is just perfect.

    These are my favorite lines
    "I've been waiting,
    rebuilding my broken bone box
    here in your cold penumbra,"
    such wonderful music.

    I laughed when I came to your page, I have that exact same image on my studio wall as a poster, I was lucky enough to see the real thing in a traveling exhibit once.

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  2. nice...i like the playful end...kinda taunting....catch me if you can...the rebuilding of the bone box in anticipation....very nice hedge...i am glad your word dancing is coming back more and more...smiles.

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  3. nice, i love the music terms, especially "arpeggio," so effective here.

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  4. The ending haunts me. Really beautiful, Hedge.

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  5. Love this! Beautiful write, Joy.

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  6. "wind moonpock shadows" and the wildflower eyes....oh my goodness, this is beautiful. It leaps right off the page and flies off with the stormcrow. Loved it so much!

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  7. This is lovely - beautiful musical language - musical in sound I mean, and also very tonal in terms of light captured and little beads of imagery. I am trying to understand the stance. To me, oddly, it seemed at least in the first stanza - like the road calling out to the crow. The road that collapses in a brick arpeggio and that has shadowed shoulders, and even that needs to be caught; but then in the second stanza, it is more like the traveler; watching out for that bird that would steal what's bright, sort of. Beautiful lines and images. k.

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    1. My feelings are a bit ambiguous myself about the stance in this, k--it has a lot of duality. Like Sandberg said, "Hell, sometimes *I* don't even understand it." ;-)

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    2. Ha! Not meaning as complaint - it was only interesting to me. k.

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  8. I love the call to the stormcrow - it becomes a personification of elements or the huge natural forces which we cannot control. So many amazing phrases and word combos. Extraordinary.

    I collapse
    in a brick arpeggio,
    shattering harpsichord ice bells...

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  9. Thanks all. Really appreciate the thoughts, kind words and input. We have some stuff going on on the homefront, so I will be offline for the next day or two but will get back with everyone afterwards.

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  10. Made me feel a bit like the Oz lion (pud'em-up, pud'em-up!)
    courage draining away like the scarecrows straw in a hurricane . . .

    always great to hear you read Joy and the picture choice is classic
    (easily one of my favourite paintings)

    cock your too cunning head,
    pretend to pace on crooked toes, seen
    how you love hovering high
    showing one crescent feather of
    a starbead-bright galaxy, hiding the
    brush of full dark;

    theres no place like home

    theres no place like home

    theres no place like home

    among these here words is my perfect nest!

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    Replies
    1. Always room in here for another hungry hatchling, so get comfortable. Don't mind the old bones, shiny pebbles and bits of string...someday I'll clean house...maybe. Thanks for reading, Arron.

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  11. today is your birthday...nah nah nah
    the day the heavens shined on us
    and the planets aligned
    like a connect the dots
    we are still filling in
    because numbers are not important
    i really have no idea where this is going
    other than to say....happy birthday
    i hope you have an incredible day
    full of glitter ponies & happy happy joy joy cake

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    Replies
    1. Thanks, brian. I really really hope numbers are not important, cause I can't fit all my candles on that cake. It's something of a fire hazard. ;_)

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  12. I love your poem and your voice adds more dimension to the view~ So cool....

    Happy Birthday JOY!
    Numbers don't matter! Memories do...
    Dance, sing and bask in the glory of it
    being your special day!
    enJOY ;D

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  13. For me, the words are a challenge to the fact of mortality. We're always rebuilding ourselves, hoping to see an edifice that, finally, lasts. A great ending, too...so the crow has met his match, for now at least. Happy birthday!

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    Replies
    1. Thanks Steve--very good eye.That's exactly where I was going.

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  14. Happy Birthday, Hedgewitch. Hope you have a great day and that the Muse gifts you richly (as she always seems to do. Can you tell her to pay me a visit one of these days? hee hee.) Have a wonderful day and a wonderful year. I look forward to lots of great reading in here!

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  15. The last four lines of the opening stanza are one of those rolls you get on, part way into a poem. I never get used to them, and the way they just knock me sideways with how good they are.

    The rest of the way, you carry that momentum. "Weep me out another winter after the fall." That's a fine example of how you never say anything in an ordinary way, and how the language you choose just *sounds* right, off the tongue.

    Your ending really intrigues me. Sometimes, in your poems, there is a fatalism, a sense of something unstoppable coming; but here, there is an intimation of a kind of partnership, and an almost playful challenge. It isn't, quite....but neither is it resigned. I really like it.

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  16. PS--Wasn't this one of his last paintings? If so, double kudos for the choice.

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  17. It was great listening to you read this after reading it myself. I read it almost breathlessly, so fast. I think it was the catch me if you can line. There is much to savor here and it is one of your poems I would like in a bound copy so I could read, not in front of a screen. Stormcrow, ebonyblue wings acrawl. You've wound some luscious imagery with steadfast action and finished it all off with a challenge. really love it.

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    Replies
    1. Thank you much, Jane. I often wish I could have people's online poetry in a book form--poems should be read more than once, and the blog format is not as good for that as the traditional paper one, imo. I'm so glad you enjoyed this one.

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  18. Wishing you the happiest of birthdays, Joy.

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  19. this was a fun whirlwind of a read.

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  20. Vincent's last painting. But not your last poem. He'll not catch you today, happy, happy birthday!

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    Replies
    1. Thanks, Mark. I'm halfway through a rather exhaustive but turgid bio of Van Gogh atm--a very sad and amazing life.

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  21. Happy Belated Birthday, Hedge! Hope it (didn't suck) was spectacular!

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