Saturday, February 14, 2015

Carnivale



Carnivale






You said you'd give me the moon
on a piece of toast
or at least the sweet-hot peel
of her cinnamon skin.

You said you'd raise from the grave
my heart, the ghost
to fill with black-burnt warmth
that could begin

a beat to bring horned dancers from the trees
life to lift me lurching from my knees
a revenant in red
that's what you said

that night in the glimmering swell
before the Fall
but it was Carnivale.



~September 2014










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Sunday Mini-Challenge: Promises

Karin Gustafson (ManicDDaily)  asks us to think about the promise behind the chocolates, broken, or missed, kept or imaginary. This is just something that popped up in my head a few months back, and seems appropriate now, as Carnivale is winding down in Venice 
and it is about a promise, of sorts.








Photo by Alessia Pierdomenico/Reuters
via google image search source
no copyright infringement intended

28 comments:

  1. Agh--did it again! ((Meaning lost comment!) I don't know what is wrong with my fingers--)

    So here goes--this is a perfect piece for the prompt, or unprompted. There is an especial irony in that the ghost is to be filled with a black-burned warmth, which seems to me to be Ash Wednesday, and not the craved life of red and spice--it feels to me like someone extradited from the land of the dead, with the hope of a pardon, only to have the law clamp down in the worst kind of way--I love the moon on the toast--and the cinnamon brings up the later trees--the horned figures also seem to me to be symbols of betrayal--(cuckolds come to my mind, but I think you are going for something more satyric/satiric! ) Anyway, thanks so much for participating with wonderful distilled piece. k. (Now I better post before losing!)

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    1. ps -- revenant-- great word--a bit of irony with second coming! k.

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    2. Yes--I had a line about Shrove Tuesday that I cut, also--the timing of Carnavale and the ritual is a sort of lodestone in this poem, though where it came from I'm not sure, except those ever-evocative masks, so lavish and expressive and ornate, and yet so concealing. A great challenge, Karin, and thanks for your insightful reading--and so sorry blogger is putting you through comment hell so often.

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    3. I sometimes blame blogger but I'm pretty sure it is my own ineptitude. It is so interesting to think about the masks--probably so that people can do things that will not be attached them--you know, they aren't in Vegas where everything "stays." (Ha.) k.

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  2. I never thought that I want to dance while scolding someone, while demanding that he or she explained prior actions and words. But this poem is fighting music. It makes me want to dance while shaking my fist and shouting, "or at least the sweet-hot peel
    of her cinnamon skin." Yum!

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    1. Thanks Magaly--this was written originally back when you sent me the personal challenge about carnivals, though I ended up more drawn to that epic about Dead Woman's crossing instead, I kept this one in the cauldron, so double thanks.

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  3. Oh those promises, so easily rolling off the tongue..........,I, too, was struck by the word "revenant". Cool.

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  4. ah there are plenty of promises made in order to attain things....smiles...favors...a bit of love...
    and they all seem to disappear come morning...not sure i would trust promises made at carnivale...ha...

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  5. For some a promise given is never meant to be kept. They are recycled for the night to wither in the morning and for some a carnival seems to be a good excuse.. There is nothing sweet in such a promise.

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  6. Here lies the sense of a promise (perhaps glibly given) and even more so of the uncertainty keenly felt of anyone living up to words expressed in the heat of passion - carnivale is after all a feast of the flesh.

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    1. Thanks Kerry. And very true, a feast of indulgence before being shrived and purified...still, never trust a mask, I say. ;_)

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  7. Getting up for the dance again at our age (OK, at my age) is like Charley Brown going after that football again held by Juicy Lucy -- Carnivale as the promise by Eros Claus that if you dance, you will receive the full measure and pleasure of your heart's desire. At my age receiving the moon on a piece of toast is sweet enough comfort, scented, o yes, with a hint of heart-healthy cinnamon -- just to remember the thrill of it all just before the fall, yes -- perhaps just to fall that far again. (Wonderful play on that in the final stanza.) Of course it's all masks and masque, and there's no punishment, it will go on all night forever--that's the promise that is celebrated so fervently, albeit timed just on the eve of prudence and payment in scale for mummer mayhem. Guess we'll never learn. And which do we revere more, the promise or its breaking? Great response to the prompt.

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    1. Thanks, B. laughing at the heart-healthy cinnamon.--you nail it, totally. This is one of those odd poems that writes itself, yet when done, you look at like a changeling, even as you know it for your own. I had added an additional few lines that linked this to the incubus theme I sometimes use, but they were such a conscious afterthought I cut them. Afa the whole 'at our age' thing--yes, Lucy has shifted that football so many times to indulge her pratfall-mocking laughter, but surely the laws of chance say she will one day mix it up, if only to see the look of blank astonishment on our faces. ;_) I think age is irrelevant to need, though what we look for to assuage it changes and matures into(hopefully) less destructive and more sustaining forms. Glad to see your internet is once more a servant and not a master, B, and thanks for reading as always.

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    2. PS Eros Claus! Good grief! (as it were) how true that one rings.

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  8. That could have been, that's what you said...I admire the way you framed the promises ~

    And that ending killer line - it was a carnivale ~ The twisted reality of the situation is superbly captured ~

    Grace

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  9. Oh, that first stanza.... cheap, gaudy promises and then that ending - wow

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  10. What's said doesn't count under certain circumstances, like saying "I love you" during sex, or "Sure let's visit your mother" when it's still weeks away. This poem is full of fabulous imagery, and your use of the word "revenant" was ideal. Oddly sensual, as Carnivale ought to be.

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  11. I really like the way this moves, Hedge, and the imagery is outstanding.

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  12. Damn! I reached that last line and knew that none of the promises would hold. Carnivale does that. Carnal. No more to say.

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  13. Love how this dances and then outright rollicks with rhyme to its culmination.

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  14. Love the rhythm of this piece--it really sings.

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  15. Love the reversals and false promises of Carnivale that give rise to power for the day, for the duration of the magic. You've captured the spell of it with the rhyme and you've captured the return to reality with tone. Beautiful.

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  16. Yeah, never trust a carnival promise. Chilling and delightful all at the same time. And particularly timely, Hedge.

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  17. Promises...too easy to speak...too hard to keep. Love this poem. There seems to be a bit of Carnivale in so many promises. Beautiful!

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  18. Passionate promises do not often see the light of day. Awesome poetry.

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