Friday, April 29, 2016

Rainbow Wrapper






Rainbow Wrapper



I'm just the torn wrapping
from a pre-packaged rainbow,
a rider in the sky's pocket,
mischance given breath.

I'm the flare of a spark
struck between strangers
burning alone
in the slums of the storm--

a pinwheel, a Catherine wheel,
a somersault of fires
not safe to play with,
not warm and not yours.


~April 2016



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Challenge: Words Count






Image: Lichtkreise (Kosmischer Regenbogen) (Cosmic Rainbow), 1922, Otto Freundlich
Public domain via wikiart.org


 







 

14 comments:

  1. Now, that's gorgeous writing. "Mischance given breath." Yes.

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  2. I really like the progression here.. it tip-toes carefully from the humble wrapper of a pre-packaged rainbow (just gorgeous) to the confidence of the the last stanza.. So many perfect phrases here.

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  3. A breath of fresh air and a delight to read. Have a good weekend!

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  4. Ah, no wonder you are someone I feel privileged to know!

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  5. Wow! This is brilliant writing....I love the idea of being a rider in sky's pocket!

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  6. Whoa! That last stanza is intense, and perfectly written. RAWR.

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  7. I tend to think of you as more a rainbow rapper. Wonderful combinations here--I especially like the Catherine Wheel and all those burning whirls--wonderful. k.

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  8. ps- and slums of storm and all the rest of it. k.

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  9. I love everything this poem is and offers--its colors, its tone, the bright sternness of its message. The last stanza is my favorite. There is a kind of surety to, a voice chanting "This is how things are and there is nothing anyone can do to change me." And I love that. ♥

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  10. An interesting progression from 'just the torn wrapping' to the power and independence of the final stanza. Long may your fireworks spark!

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  11. I read this as the sort of candescent nothing that poetry is, as Stevens might fabulate--"mischance given breath" and "a somersault of fires." Ever fooling the magician, we who think we own our songs, and always with the impersonal, ghastly admonition of the great dead we only resonate—"not safe to play with / not warm and not yours." Ahem and amen.

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  12. some lights are too bright, and some only cast shadow. yours, however: they clarify, and edify, and cauterize as they show the wound ~

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    Replies
    1. Can't think of anything you could say I would like better to hear, M. Sincere thanks.

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