Thursday, January 3, 2013

Winter Talk



Winter Talk





Under my palms
the forsaken garden
moves with the clamor of  bulbs.

Their secret gossip-mumbles
murmur through the muffling
of their port red cage.

Tangling white wild hair,
they dance handfast  
deep in a strong gypsy curl,

pushing green fingers up the
yeasty dough 
of broken-down things,

listening
for Time's peelback
of the onion earth.


~January 2013 



 55 potential grape hyacinths for   the g-man



Process notes: the word Port in the poem refers to Port Silt Loam, the official state soil of Oklahoma. Bet you didn't know our politicians had named special official state soils for us, along with state birds, songs, wildflowers, etc. But apparently they have lots of time for that. Still, it's a very common soil type in Oklahoma, and is named not after port wine as you might think, but after the small town of Port in Washita County. Those caring to continue their horticultural education can view a soil section of same below, courtesy of wikipedia:









Header image (c) joyannjones, 2013  



27 comments:

  1. This is a wonderful little (not so little) poem. Such great sound with the clamor of the bulbs and their gossip-mumbles. (And they do have a busy-bodyish quality.) The end is especially strong, I think, Time's peelback of the onion earth, though there is something terribly mournful I think about that. Anyway, like it a lot. Once we tried to plant something like 80 bulbs upstate. Not one came up. All eaten. The local animals were apparently not attuned to Time's peelbacks. (Ha.) k.

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    1. Glad you enjoyed, k. Next time plant daffodils--they're mildly poisonous to critters and nothing will touch them, even gophers and moles.

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    2. Sounds good. I think they were tulips. It was very disappointing.

      The yeasty dough of broken down things is, btw, lovely image - one hopes for the rising again (as you bring out). k.

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    3. Yes, tulips are great delicacies for a lot of subterranean diners--voles especially love them. I only plant a very few up close to the house anymore. Years ago when I was planting for the City, we used to stick powdered bone meal in the planting hole, and the neighborhood dogs would dig them up for the squirrels and rabbits. ;_)

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  2. times peel back of the onion earth...already the growing is happening, prepping for spring to burst forth new life....enchanting bit of gardening hedge....

    these things grow in caves?
    smiles.

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  3. "yeasty dough
    of broken-down things"

    What an incredible image! There is something perfect about those words. The heart and the hope of it, I think.

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  4. Brilliant...especially love this:
    "pushing green fingers up the
    yeasty dough
    of broken-down things,"
    brings to mind nature cooking up a beautiful feast

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  5. What noisy soil you Okies have!
    I like Mother Nature to just relax for a while.
    Beautiful and very poetic Hedge.
    Nice to have you back.
    Loved your Dirty 55
    Thanks for playing, sorry for forgetting the Goats Head Soup, and please have a Kick Ass Week-End

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    1. Ha! NEVER forget the goat's head soup man. It's very bad karma and could even keep you from having a well-deserved kickass festivity of choice. But not this time. Just this once I'll cut ya some slack.

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  6. Beautiful portrayal of nature's stirring. It's pretty hard to hear any clamoring amoungst the bulbs around here. I think they are nicely frozen (along with assorted nasty insects, I hope). Happy 2013!

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  7. this makes me feel all achey: "yeasty dough
    of broken-down things"

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  8. Wow things are growing again already?! You paint a great picture with your words. :)

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  9. The second stanza is gorgeous... and deer - do they leave daffodils alone? Might have to try them.

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    1. Thanks, Margaret. Yep--they taste bad and give them a severe tummy ache.

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  10. SOMEONE is aching for SPRINGTIME, looks like!

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  11. I love when reading something makes you feel those tiny movements of nature and make you wonder .. beautiful post !

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  12. Now that is a sight for sore eyes: evidence of life going about its business underground, and then breaking through.

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  13. ..."In a strong gypsy curl..." Indeed! it is hard sometimes for me to be patient and exact enough with bulbs- yet many do come up! such an inspiring write- thanks.

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  14. Love the potential underneath the earth. How cool to know Oklahoma's state soil. I wonder what Iowa's is...

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  15. I love the thought of the bulbs gossiping together under the earth, and earth as onion!

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  16. New life readying itself to spring forth. I long for spring bulbs to push through and bloom.

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  17. there is a dance in your middle stanza that grabs me. the thought that spring is activating, underneath it all, is exciting. this poem is robust with action and color. love it, and all it foretells.

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  18. Is there anything more hopeful and uplifting in January than green things poking stubby fingers up through the earth? My heart always skips a beat. I am already watching for "signs".

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  19. I really like those last 8 words, and always love it when you draw inspiration from gardens, both real and imagined.

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  20. Yes, I suspect they do talk...love the "yeasty dough/of broken-down things" and Time peeling back the earth. Thank you.

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  21. love time peeling back the earth.. i always like to look for signs too..

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