Saturday, September 6, 2014

The Snow Moth




The Snow Moth


Carousel of  stars,
revolve 
the mulberry sky
 in midway caterwauls.

Drive spider-silken cars
from sky to eye;
ride high
before the darkling fall,

for the inchworm moon
will chew her hole in night,
spin her fat cocoon,
a knot

from which the snow-moth's drawn
ice-winged and blinding bright;
and what's consumed's forgot,
what's forgotten's gone.
  

~September 2014







 55  crystal snow moths for the ghost of the G-Man and



Challenge:Flash Fiction 55

 Optional Musical Accompaniment





Photos: Snow Crystal, by Matthais Kabel, shared under a Creative Commons License, via wikimedia commons 

(manipulated)



25 comments:

  1. cool...i read a quote earlier today...
    " What the caterpillar
    calls the end,
    the rest of the world
    calls a butterfly."
    Lao Tzu

    which seems apropo...
    the inchworm moon...ha...is very cool

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  2. Intricate design within your words...magical

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  3. Beautiful sound here especially--you seem just to be luxuriating in assonance to great effect. I am a little concerned that you said the ghost of the G-man, but I see no sign that this is anything but metaphor, right? The metaphor of the moon chewing a hole in night is just lovely--as if all were light behind it--and the end of the poem seems to come to us all--
    It works very well with the moth imagery--it took me a bit to make the connection, your images are so strong that it is sometimes hard at least for me to keep the beginning in mind as I get caught up in what comes next--but here the idea of the moth chewing is strong.

    Extra points for caterwauls! Beautiful word. This one has an intense Hopkins-esque feel-for me, particularly the second stanza with the intense lift of "ride high." Thanks. k.

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    1. Thanks, k--no, purely his metaphorical ghost haunting the meme, not him--he is still happily rollicking around in the flesh somewhere, but for me this will always be the g-man's thing. You know a lot of people are calling my recent stuff Hopkins-y--haven't read him in years--I may have to go back and check him out.

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    2. Glad to hear for sure re Galen. I love Hopkins. What's similar to me is the close conjunction of musical words and imagery-- which kind of rush to a sudden break or change in pace. I think the ones I like the best are sonnets windhover, gods grandeur and the one about pied things though that may be gods grandeur I don't know. K.

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    3. Yes, the Pied Things one is the only one of his I really know--as I recall, I found his focus on God with a capitol G a bit offputting, but as I say, it's been years. I have several anthologies with his stuff, so will do some reading. Thanks--hope your weekend is going well.

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  4. for the inchworm moon
    will chew her hole in night,
    spin her fat cocoon,

    One feels queasy looking at a soft mass of funny looking lavae. Amazingly it can turn out to be a beautiful butterfly later! Great word craft Joy!

    Hank

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  5. Ah, so lovely. I do adore a caterpillar and I so admire your metaphor here:

    for the inchworm moon
    will chew her hole in night,
    spin her fat cocoon,
    a knot

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  6. Snow moths are the very definition of "little monsters". They will defoliate your trees if left to the job. To think of an "inchworm moon" chewing holes in the night is chilling indeed. It is also incredible imagery. Anything they get a hold of will undoubtedly be gone and forgotten shortly. Do they know they're a metaphor? Do they care?

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  7. The way you build metaphors is intoxicating and rich.. I love the sound, and for every read I go a little deeper..

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  8. From opening image - poetry - closing image...such a fulfilling experience and I agree with Bjorn about the way you build your metaphors...expertly rendered, Hedge.

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  9. I admire the rich tapestry of words - mulberry sky, darkling fall, inchworm moon ~ Divine read HW ~

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  10. "for the inchworm moon
    will chew her hole in night"

    That is just splendid!

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  11. echo to that inchworm moon. read it last night, then again this morning with Billie singing, the perfect duo.

    a languid, yet lethal, moodiness ~

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    1. Yes, with your insomnia thing, you ought to know--that's the place it comes from--staring up at that show-no-tell endless dark sky. Thanks, M.

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  12. That first stanza is just gorgeous!

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  13. "Carousel of stars, revolve the mulberry sky in midway caterwauls." Wow! What a visual! After reading Fireblossom's description of snow moths, I understand the power in this piece even more.

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  14. While I was learning to speak English, a bit before 20, I used to read poems in English without knowing what the words meant. I used to listen to them being spoken, and every now and then, a poem or a words and the way some words were weaved together would make me stop. And listen again. I had no idea what the words meant, but the sounds had meaning in my heart. They were alive... and telling. This is how I feel about the following lines; but with more conviction, for now I can consume the sound while digesting their meaning:

    Drive spider-silken cars
    from sky to eye;
    ride high
    before the darkling fall,

    Wonderful!

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    Replies
    1. Thank you Magaly. My poems often seem like they're written in a foreign language to lots of people. ;_) I know that's not what you meant, just being smart-mouthed. I'm glad you enjoyed it.

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  15. Your metaphors are potent and your imagery is stirring!

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  16. OK, conspiracy afoot -- dunno what happened to my earlier comment, and the one I just wrote to replace it got et ... by the snow man, perhaps, who, I suppose, prefers no perturbation from minions like myself. Again & again: so fine a crystal and chrysalis here, so delicate. Have you felt the first frost yet? Maybe the play is Hopkinesque, but the filigree is all yours.

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    1. Sorry, B--doubtless the blogger gods demanded a sacrifice of your first born comment. I did check my spam folder, but not there, so it has been consumed in the cybervoid. I really hate that. Thanks for persevering, and for the kind words--no frost yet, but it's crazy cool--hot seesawing atm, with 97 for today, and lows in the 40's Friday--that means Fall is coming, and where Fall puts her dead-leaf slippers, the winter is coming to dance not far behind.

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  17. The idea of a "Mulberry sky" is enchanting and the inchworm moon/hole line is amazing! The ending is just so… final. Ha - gone and forgotten. Unfortunately true for so many …

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