Friday, June 13, 2014

The Politician



The Politician




When you were fresh-born
 in your hummingbird skin,
you fed on flowers, things
of a day, open and gone;
ruby jeweled in all your movements
but that was too small.

In your owl mask
mice were your meat
the scutter and squeak, the rip
and swallow, wide eyes like lamps
with that painted look of the wise
though an owl has a brain
smaller than a walnut.


When you got your spurs
a brash young cock
you learned to jump high, to flap,
stab deep, to hide blood
in exclamations of swirling feathers,
bawling out your bloodlust 
to the dulleyed thirsty crowd.

But you're always most yourself
in your seagull grey suit
that darkens dawn, 
living high on trash, soaring on
 void with your frantic kind,
screaming their circled rage,
a vomit on the waves.



~May 2014, revised June 2014







posted for    real toads
Fireblossom Friday: Challenge: Guido Vedovato

The wandering, eclectic eye of Fireblossom (Shay's Word Garden) lights once again on a painter of the Naive Art school, this time the contemporary Italian artist, Guido Vedovato. His official website, full of his unique painting and sculpture, can be found here. The image I have used for this poem is protected by copyright with all rights reserved(as are all his works) therefor I will not reproduce it. It is called  Il Giorno E Il Notte and you can see it at this link.



Optional Musical Accompaniment






Photo: Seagulls At University Garbage Dump, 1954, Seattle Municipal Archives, 

30 comments:

  1. ha. i think you have captured a politician well...its funny i started writing a political poem yesterday and was thinking of owls...or owl pellets actually...the bones of its prey...i like the seagull metaphor though...maybe a pigeon too, shitting on everything...smiles.

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  2. I made a comment on the nblog Facebook link which seems to have gotten lost-- agh! If it shows up, sorry-- the gist was -- wonderful! Awful! You capture my feelings of the moment very well but with an expression beyond mine. My only quibble that you are a bit too kind with the humming bird skins-- on the other hand the feeding on flowers and the open and close of things of the day definitely does bring up a kind of sickening venality-- open palms and hundreds in paper bags -- as well as the ruby movements-- I can see red ties and class rings. Of course the you really set to work-- with both scalpel and machete. I am going to end this before I lose it. And will even use the non- Manicddaily identity as on phone and fearful of blogger wordpress internecine conflicts. Great poem. (Though unlike seagulls these guys are not scavengers-- they go for prime meat. ). K.

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    1. I meant THEN you really get to work -- the owl part painted face great and the grey suit. Agh.

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    2. That first stanza was my liberal bow to how we are all born innocent, ie, the old noble savage thing, and then later corrupted. Like you, I do wonder about some, though. Thanks, k. for battling through the blogger-wordpress antagonism, and for reading and responding, as always, with appreciation and insight.

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  3. In your owl mask
    mice were your meat
    the scutter and squeak..

    I particularly love the way these words sound.. the auditory element adds another dimension to a poem which is rich in visual imagery. As I read I was aware of many of Vedovato's pictures but so impressed at how you had snipped the shades and characters and colours from his palette and made them your own motifs.

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    1. Thank you Kerry--as you see by the dates, I had some of this already in the works, but the colors and images of the birds really struck me--they are not exactly ominous, but they do seem distorted--though not as distorted as the personalities I'm writing about here. ;_)

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  4. I especially love "in your hummingbird skin" and the "seagull grey suit that darkens dawn". Cool write, Hedge.

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  5. My favorite is the third stanza. Love how you interpreted the picture.

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  6. Excellent! Politicians should be so interesting (read this sentence with a Yiddish lilt). You have captured the learning curve which spews forth aweless vomit.

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  7. You and I have been watching the same news; I saw politicians in the cock fight picture, too. This is outstanding, Hedge. The progression really underlines the imagery.

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  8. Is that true about an owl's brain being smaller then a walnut? Wow. So much for popular misconceptions, though I must say it suits a politician to a tee, having the sage thoughtful expression down, with not much going on behind it, at least not much that's laudable.

    The progression you show here is keenly observed. Genuine early, then devolving further and further still, until finally the banality of evil takes over and you call it what it is in no uncertain terms. Thanks so much for adding the kind of poem that only you can compose, to my monthly challenge.

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  9. I may be way off but I see this as a spirit that's being reincarnated in all the different skins of these species that you so vividly describe. Your rooster stanza brings that brutalness and movement from the image you chose. I like how you shift perspective with each stanza...intriguing, Hedge! :)

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  10. Wise, metaphors with birds are working perfectly with the character you pen and the art!

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  11. The political arena has been perfectly profiled! Amen .....

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  12. I could see many of the artist's paintings as I read your piece. Truly captures the progression to total evil and duplicity of too many politicians. The last line is just perfection!

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  13. The politician- a vomit on the waves.... just wonderful... the inapiration taken from his art is soo deep hedgewitch... I loved ur poem... my fav so far... :)

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  14. Fabulous, Hedge, especially the first two lines of the first and last stanzas.
    Luv, K

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  15. Hit The Who first, then clicked to see the image -- and gasped in delight! Then your poem. This is the synesthetic pleasure of blogging, when it is done right. Bravo! to a perfect blend.

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    1. Thanks, Mark. There's some smokin guitar work on that live performance. Glad you enjoyed.

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  16. Birds of a feather politicate together all over the rest of us, don't they. Fine, if ravaging, weave birding through the various nests and rooks of political office. One wonders if power moults these vultures. Though the perfect ending was in the gulls minding the landfill and barfing trash back on us. Maybe we're the vultures, supping on democratic bones.

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  17. An imaginative, and seemingly inevitable progression here, Joy--and we're on the cusp of yet anther season of recrimination and prevarication. The sad thing is that 50% of the miscreants are going to be rewarded with terms of office. It's bewildering and maddening. I enjoyed your sharp, unambiguous descriptors throughout this piece. They deserve nothing less.
    Steve

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  18. Thanks all. I am having some back issues, and medicated to the eyeballs. Look forward to returning visits when I get back to a normal cognitive state.

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    1. Hope you are soon feeling better and back in fighting form. K.

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    2. Thanks, k. At least, not in pain. ;_)

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    3. Good. Well, feel better soon. Many miss you. (I'm speaking for myself, but I'm making a pretty sure assumption of the others.) k.

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  19. That last stanza is powerful and disturbing.

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  20. I'm impressed.

    Love your section at ALL CAPS.

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  21. For some reason I think of Horace, or Juvenal, or perhaps a modern Swift or Twain, in this excoriation. another brilliant pen ~

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Wallace Stevens said,"Thought is an infection. In the case of certain thoughts, it becomes an epidemic." Feel free to spread the plague here.

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