Saturday, January 3, 2015

Angelcake


Angelcake


In the too-bright color-kill light
across the brittle border

lies Cellophane Angel-land,  
 everyone 

sugar-free, fat-free, deliciously
plastic, without

awkward organs, hot
or cold running blood.

Lifting sacred brand names to the sky
they sigh,

dying in fracture-fall
from old spork wounds.

It's fragile in the land of cellophane angels
with too much nothing to be.


~January 2015







posted for    real toads



Challenge: Flash 55 Plus
Kerry O'Connor (Skylover, Skywriting) remembers the incomparable Mr. Know-it-all, the G-man, Galen Lee Haynes, who left us last month, with his 55 meme continued, plus; or as she defines it: "Each month there will be something extra, an option to consider in your creative process. The one thing that will remain the same is the word count: 55 words no more, no less." This month's added element, appropriately for the man with the Harley, is a biker phrase from the 50's, 
'Man, you gotta go.' 
Might be a little of that in this, maybe.








Top image: High Noon, 1949, by Edward Hopper
May be protected by copyright. Fair use via wikiart.org
Footer: An Angel of The Last Judgement, 1911, by Wassily Kandinsky
Public domain




28 comments:

  1. That brittle border sounds like a place you do not wish to cross, but the between the blood and the plastic it's a hard choice.. one seem to be cold and dead, the other one filled with pain and blood... a lot of thoughts went through my head reading this.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Hah! Now the spork wounds really spoke to me. I knew the word but had a hard time placing it at first--this is fragile--

    But before getting to that--I love the first line--it is so evocative of that kind of sunlight that everyone paints their houses turquoise or peach for even though they fade away-- there i is certainly an awkwardness to organs and cold and hot running blood--I don't know if you've ever read Terry Pratchett, but he has a wonderful novel in which the word "organ" is used as an expletive among some very sterile types. The real ticket here is the end--I thought--the fragility of it all--the puffiness--like the angel cake or angel food cake (I also kept thinking of let them eat cake)--not a very great diet somehow for hardiness-- celluloid angel may be another variation, though honestly, I think most celluloid angels are made out of considerably tougher stuff than plastic wrap. Really cool, intriguing, evocative--well done. k. (It won't let me comment as anything but this not-used id. I don't really mind, but I'm not so keen on being identified with the lawyer bit.) k.

    ReplyDelete
  3. The brighter the light, the darker the shadows.
    You write so well, Joy Ann. I'm always impressed.
    K

    ReplyDelete
  4. There is an abundance of "plastic people" these days. What a fabulous piece.

    ReplyDelete
  5. Well, this is all spectacular. But your two closing lines - OMG. Love them!

    ReplyDelete
  6. I've always loved Edward Hopper's vision (perhaps for the sense of awkward loneliness) but you have provided your own vision here with succinct clarity. What a summation of the lifestyle so many aspire to these days! It makes me want to go far away. Excellent commentary, Joy.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Yes,the Hopper is not really saying what the poem says--I chose it for the way he made the light. Thanks Kerry.

      Delete
  7. Thank you for this. I've fought for most of my life with body image issues. I'm trying to learn in the last half of my life to appreciate my flawed self and not attempt to pursue a type of perfection that really doesn't even exist.
    http://sphereofmusic.blogspot.com/2015/01/outfoxing-quixote-flash-55-extra.html

    ReplyDelete
  8. There is an element of horror in it. The last two lines made me shudder.
    Powerful verse.
    -HA

    ReplyDelete
  9. Wow! It's amazing how at the same time it is so caustic and graceful! Really love your writing. :)

    ReplyDelete
  10. Interesting use of the word cellophane as opposed to just plastic. Cellophane suggests see through... seeing through a mask. It also suggests preserving something...I think of cellophanes that protect foods, giving them, supposedly, some extra lifespan. This cellophane preserves a kind of dystopia, a malfunctioning life. A fascinating piece of writing.

    ReplyDelete
  11. In too-sunny Ef El Ay the biker culture is like a winter heat wave -- endemic -- I always wonder about what it would mean to forego the labors of suburban hell and ride, baby, ride, fueled by plasticine visions like this. Something so puer about it, feet never touching the ground, never suffering the organs' grind, just blue skies forever. I don't know how many old farts I see on Harleys who aren't wearing a helmet (you, can, in Florida), who are just one spill away from a faster trip to the nursing home. Yet they ride. Your final couplet nails why.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Yes, the classic midlife crisis machine is the Harley, but I think the flavor of the early days of the motorcycle was a bit purer--or more insane, as in T.E Lawrence crashing and burning--rather like the barnstormer pilots and wingwalkers of early aviation. By the 50's it was calmed down enough for the Beats to want to free it up again, and now it's just a toy of the rich. It's no coincidence that my husband used his pay-out from the military to buy one after coming home from Viet Nam.But this poem is much more about the cellophane angels of materialism than the Hell's Angels. ;_) Thanks for reading, B.

      Delete
  12. a very moody piece... leaving a question of 'why'

    ReplyDelete
  13. Oh this is excellent. I LOVE "hot or cold running blood" and the spork wounds. I would say more, but I want to go watch some reality tv before I hit the mall. I'll text you my selfie.

    ReplyDelete
  14. This FEELS brittle, feels awkward and plastic in its movement. I don't know how you did that exactly, but wow.

    ReplyDelete
  15. Ps -- love the hopper and the Kandinsky esp.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks, k. I was looking for a picture of angels that had disintegrated, as it were, or at least were coming apart--that Kandinsky seemed right. As always you nail so much about the poem that is oblique--and yes, there is a trace of celluloid angel here, but as you say, they are a much tougher breed.And we are living in a time when 'Let them Eat Cake" could be the title, or maybe, let them eat twinkies.Hope you are still well and being spared the flu bug.

      Delete
    2. Do they still have twinkles? I thought there was some bankruptcy but maybe someone resurrected them--a cellophane angel for sure, also with the little sno cone thing made with pink coconut. I have not gotten flu, thanks! k.

      Delete
  16. This feels like a statement against the plastic brand-materialism of modern society or Angel-land as you say ~ Surprising real to me, HW ~ A pleasure to read your words as always ~ Happy New Year ~

    ReplyDelete
  17. been driving to Pasadena every day since the 26th to work at the Rose Bowl. it's a curious alter-ego of LA, these bedroom communities to the east of LA 'proper', with perfectly gorgeous craftsmen houses minutes away from a downtown that still somehow allows the disenfranchised homeless. sporks. now it's the hipsters, with their own ironic vision. anyways - brilliant pen. Galen would have loved it ~

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Galen would have given me his usual dig in the ribs about being hi-falutin, I'm afraid--but that was part of the enjoyment of writing for him. He liked to pretend he didn't understand poetry, but he had a vocabulary and a sharp, ironic mindset that wouldn't quit, so i wasn't falling for it. Miss him a lot. I can only imagine you have been up to your ears in cellophane angels the last week--the taste gets a bit cloying, but as you say, sometimes under all those hair-sprayed feathers you can find a little something that keeps you keeping on. Thanks for reading, M.

      Delete
  18. Cellophane angels...I like that. Need one do wrap herself around me.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Unfortunately, the lifespan of cellophane is brief, Timo--but it almost always covers some sweet candy, I suppose. ;_)

      Delete
  19. Reminds me of a recent visit to Disney World with the grands- materialism OD. OK to visit on vacation but can't imagine living there.

    ReplyDelete
  20. Galen would approve. And I love that famous painting, the starkness of the woman standing in the bright sunlight, looking like she just got out of bed. "Bright color kill light". Galen would approve.

    ReplyDelete
  21. This is wonderful. Great poetry to go with the artwork. Perfect 55!

    ReplyDelete

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