Friday, August 22, 2014

Starspeak


Starspeak







In the sky, things grow wild:
pulled smoke, amber cotton
feather fretwork, light benighted,
silver spears, iron rattles
wind dances, night battles
spun sugar races of air rushing air,
vapor tails braided 
from a palomino mare,
the silver-flecked maze
round the withering moon,
gibbous face given glimmer
by her mirror of clouds.

Down here, things twitch like time:
the goosestep and the swansong,
the good life, the hard death
green-gold carpet, separate breath
black feet in the dust
black steps over lime, 
the opening door
framed in falling night, 
the short flight
the long walk up the stone hill
where stars finally talk
where blood grows still.





~August 2014





 posted for    real toads


Fireblossom Friday: Lists
The inimitable Fireblossom (Shay's Word Garden) asks us 
to consider the poetic possibilities of a list.








Photo: Mares'-tail moon, copyright joyannjones 2014 
Footer Image: The Open Door, by Henri Martin (slightly manipulated)
Public domain via wikiart.org

 

31 comments:

  1. I'll go with the sky, if you don't mind...

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    1. I'll assume you weren't being snarky, but if you were, pick another site next time, please.

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    2. Looks reasonable to me. The sky does seem like a better place. At least the blood doesn't grow still.

      JzB

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    3. Sometimes the blood that beats and rushes in our ears keeps us from hearing other things. Also, we don't get to live in the sky, so denial is pretty useless. Just sayin. I'm not here to blow sunshine up anyone's skirt, but to call it like I see it. Thanks for reading. JzB.

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  2. A terrific poem to return with. I think my favorite line is "down here, things twitch like time." Such a great trope for all time does along with the tick. A great contrast between the atmospheric and the earthen, which really seems sort of the mineral, so that stars--great lumps of rock--even the withering moon--sort of fits with our group. I see Shadow's comment, but I'm afraid that I disagree--I keep thinking of looking at clouds from both sides now--and a little twitch at least provides something to hold onto. Anyway, quite wonderful and transcendent lists. k.

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    1. Thanks, k. This has been through a lot of rewrites, so I'm glad something of what I intended still peeks through those mares tails.

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  3. Hooray!!!! Now I'm all filled up again.

    I missed you Hedge.
    Thank you. Thank you.

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    1. Thank you Kerry--I have missed the pond, and you, too. especially.

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  4. Very vivid and such depth of soul within your lines. Lovely write.

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  5. Beautiful. I would love to hear you read this.

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  6. I love how the separation of the above and down here.. the contrast there between the stanzas, exactly there is where the magic exist in my third reread.. yes i have missed your poetry..:-)

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    1. Thanks, Bjorn--glad to see you at the pond. I always enjoy your work.

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  7. I'm here again, and my thoughts are the same! Checking in from Fireblossom's post now!

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  8. This is gorgeous and powerful. Impressive work. I like that the title might be read as "Star Speak" or "Stars Peak." I especially like the first three lines, the last two, and this: "green-gold carpet, separate breath."

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  9. Leave it to you to make a list sing this way. What a vivid and poetic way of describing the night sky. The vapor tails was my favorite part. Thanks so much for lending your distinct and mad skills to my challenge. I always look for yours right away.

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  10. Love. Makes me feel content, in a way, to be still down here--not that I believe in heaven--but the mighty wild and powerful sky is scary wild in your poem with pull and fret, spears and battles and races on the way to withering. I am slow, and busy learning hand in hand black and white, with a sense that final is OK if I/we can grow into some wisdom en route.

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  11. I can't say I suss your meaning, but I love the shapes and sounds of your words.

    And I never knew that okra could make a pentagram.

    Cheers!
    JzB

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    1. Okra is a cool plant--I hadn't seen the pentagram--thanks for pointing it out.

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  12. The beauty you have created from the prompt to create a list is amazing...I like the wildness of the sky...We are planted to die from our first breath...Amazing write

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  13. A list can be bricolage -- a found pile of meanings -- and sometimes it can be a singing lattice, which this is, each line woven and resounding and providing heaven and earth to the next. The altitudes of the first stanza are decked like a pagan princess warrior, and open to the sky; the platitudes of the second characterize for me the march through our darkened door, our dying(s). Extraordinarily metered and rhymes, Pregnant divide between the two, but without judgment; nature's nature and our nature both gotta do what they gotta do. So good to see you here again.

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    1. Thanks B. Good to be back. This was mostly a list to begin with, so a little editing and twenty thousand rewrites later, it sort of hangs together. I appreciate the kind words, as always, and the intuitive understanding.

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    2. Wow. I feel like you said it all! Beautiful review of this poem... this poem emanating wild magic. Well worth the re-writes!

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  14. if only we could live in the sky, it is much differnt than here on each...and even dreaming we have to be careful not to lose that connection because it will drive us crazy...even then we can appreciate the stars and listen to them...and perhaps in the process learn something....

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  15. You have created such an ephemeral masterpiece here. I love your word choices, especially, "amber cotton."

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  16. I enjoy, "light benighted," and the idea of stars speaking finally...the rhythm that your line lengths create is befitting. Well done!

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  17. have missed your voice, and so brightened when I saw your name on the list, then further upon reading this. first I rushed through, and then re-read twice with pace and pause (agree with MZ, btw). the piece is brilliant (of course), but especially the near-oxymoron of the final two words: grow... still, how we perceive the stillness as something grown into, after that long hill climb, and... well, I'll stop my effusiveness, and just re-read. ~

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  18. agree about the reading out loud, with the subtle rhymes and sounds in this. it kinda makes me want to spread out with my back against the earth in an attempt to ease the twitching.

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  19. i've just been to a realm of magical senses, sounds and colors. your poetry is truly a wonder, and a joy to recite. thank you.

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    1. (this is yelena from moonlitpoetic :)

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    2. Thank you, Yelena--nice to see you here.

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