Thursday, March 5, 2015

Blue Egg


Blue Egg





I remember
when I was origami
so folded, so
representational,
remarkably flexible
for paper,

my outside jayfeather blue
as an egg, lifting uncrumpled
careful wings (those
fleshless parts of the fowl
left behind when
the breast is devoured.)

Such a successful simulation,
patiently tucked and rolled into
a song, a resemblance
made into a bird, unfortunately
flightless and now
extinct
in the shredder.




~March 2015












posted for     real toads


Challenge: Interpretations with Margaret
Margaret Bednar's (Art Happens 365) artistic eye lights this time on the work of Toril Fisher. All rights to the image above belong to the artist, who has given  us her kind permission to reproduce it.







Top Image: Baby Blues, copyright Toril Fisher
Used with permission.
Footer: Wing of a Blue Roller, 1512, Albrecht Durer
Public domain via wikiart.org


29 comments:

  1. What a wonderfully, creative poem. I have a tiny, small origami bird one of my children made me. It nestles in the palm of my hand (bit it is a bright green) and I can't bare to part with it. It is safe and secure in my jewelry box - and I treasure it far more than most of my jewelry! Glad to see your inspired.

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  2. That opening line is such a great hook. I most love the closing stanza, "a resemblance made into a bird".....

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  3. or crumpled by life a bit...our wings get nicked..
    and perhaps we just get tired of being a representation
    of life...and choose to try and live it...

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  4. I began to read and could not stop. Wonderful verse.

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  5. you have folded your words very well

    cheers
    jzb

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  6. Whoosh!!
    You turn the personal interpretation on a dime here, in shades of blue, on the edge of extinction.

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  7. Love your use of origami...always a favorite of mine. Great writing, Hedge.

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  8. How imaginative, to think of origami birds in relation to an image of a nest with eggs. The description of wings as being the part that's left is arresting and a little disturbing. Really well turned. Such a successful simulation, like a persona tried on and discarded or a mask that no longer suits. Fine stuff, Joy.

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  9. Shredder--such an easy death! Your poem gives me pause--the origami bird is a symbol of hope and as an analogy for life? I wish it resisted; I wish it lifted the breast out of danger.

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  10. Hey Hedge-- this has such an interesting title especially I think as an egg seems to be about the most fragile and crumple-able thing one can imagine really-- paper perhaps stronger in fact-- so there is a mix of fragilities here. One thinks of the paper as donned almost as camouflage thoigh it ends up being more fragile than the true thing might have been. Great sound throughout and subtle notes of Double meaning with fowl and foul and even the tucked and rolled which are like paper but also like eggs waiting to hatch-- so I guess it's j retesting to me on train-- forgive phone type that one is not sure how the egg did hatch-- you know-/ what it skipped in the pretense. K.

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    1. No problem, k--glad you are traveling home, and thanks for reading.

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  11. Such wonderful clever words - perfect!
    Anna :o]

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  12. Oh the image takes me through a journey of denying ourselves. Perfected into origami folded till we sacrifice it in the shredder..

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  13. "remarkably flexible
    for paper,"

    Such loaded lines... A bit of appreciation for what is, shrouded with longing for what could be... all of it sprinkled with a tad of annoyance. I like it.

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  14. You know what you get when a bird goes though a shredder? Shredded tweet.
    Sorry, I couldn't resist. I love your paper birdsong.

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  15. This is tremendously clever with a delightfully wicked edge.

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  16. This poem speaks to me of fragility and brevity beautifully.

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  17. Sorry to have been so untypographical--just wanted to say that the poem is very much about what art does in a way==it makes a resemblance to a bird, with a fair amount of breastbeating==attempts a song--that truly is more important than flight perhaps, as the artist kind of wants to hang around--perhaps too much! Thanks. k.

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    1. No problem--I just appreciate that you make time for reading my work while in difficult circumstances to respond--but do it anyway. I appreciate that more than any typo could bother me. AFA art, yes, I agree--it is a part of us we fold and roll and tuck and endlessly work on, yet it is fragile, and representational without wings sometimes. This was also about how we (sometimes rather desperately) create personas for ourselves which end up not working, for one reason or another.

      I almost lost my computer this morning to a repair tool--sigh--it makes you realize just how fragile our digital world is, as well.

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  18. Yes, the fragile life where wings only last a season. Beautiful

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  19. the final couplet hit me square mid-forehead. where, as it turns out, I should be smacked more often. ~

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  20. What a glorious metaphor....so cleverly creative!

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  21. this tears my heart into smithereens for some reason..thank you for the beauty of your words.

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  22. I love this one! That first line just really grabs my interest and it continues throughout the poem. I will look at my origami birds now with more respect!

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  23. I read this as what we do to ourselves trying to present ourselves as differnet than we are... and ending up flightless, extinct and in the shredder. It's an amazing response to the image.

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  24. This poem so powerfully and completely is what it does: exhibit the delicate construction(s) of the self (for one then another devouring lover, perhaps) only to collapse (or be cast) catastrophically into the shredder ("extinct" on its own line, penultimate, is the linear hammer). A draft of selves (loves) piled up with the others in the wastebasket and the Writer still at the task. There's always another blue egg in the nest, until the big D truly packs the poet off to the grave of the muses.

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  25. This is just fabulous. I want to re-read it again and again.

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