Sunday, April 10, 2016

The Ravens' Cotillion




The Ravens' Cotillion






There was no place to hide
eyelid to eye
so I wore black instead
when the three fetches came
to take my basket of berries.

They weren't looking for me;
 only for  
refreshments
only the black 
acrid taste they love best
of mold along the stem, and the
sweet eight-day folly of the tulip;
canapés and crudités

for the ravens' cotillion they'd planned





~April 2016









posted for   real toads









Note: I actually included five titles here but did not link Eyelid to Eye, or The Folly of the Tulip. All were taken from more prolific past Aprils.






Images: Photo: © joyannjones
Dead Tulip Petals by Lisa Benemelis, all rights reserved, no copyright infringement intended


17 comments:

  1. I love the tiny drop of whimsy in the darkness of this. Such fantastic imagery in every sense of the word.

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  2. Such darkness when they are even bereaving you the mold... with such friends you don't need enemies. You must have fantastic titles to chose from...

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  3. What a wonderful piece of dark whimsy!

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  4. The title is exquisite, and the revelation of what these visitors really want is a black and startling mix of afternoon tea and graveyard. Mrs. Havisham on some kind of street drug.

    I love the Bernie thingie on your side bar. I feel the Bern, too!

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  5. I love everything from title to ending. "There was no place to hide eyelid to eye so I wore black instead" One of my favorite lines.

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  6. You had me at the title and did not disappoint! There is something about "eight-day folly of the tulip" that I just adore.

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  7. Yes, another brilliant title and a haunting poem to delight on the Sabbath.

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  8. the first two lines hold an entire philosophy: "no place to hide".

    this strikes me as part of the same universe as the gargoyles... ~

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    1. Thanks, M for reading all three linked poems--they don't really have much of a relationship to each other(other than they are all about the same things I always write about ;_) ) but agree, the night of the gargoyles is closest to this one, as it stuck with me more for some unknown reason. Hope you're feeling better.

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    2. Also, I picked three that I thought Magaly might like. ;_)

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  9. I love this, especially:
    "the
    sweet eight-day folly of the tulip"

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  10. Your three titles fit in effortlessly and expand the vision here really--(such as it is at such close range) for me I especially like mold on the branch aspect--it seemed so genuinely naturalistic--thanks.k.

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    1. Thanks, k--appreciate you taking the time to read all three--I really just picked them by the titles that tickled my fancy, and whether I thought Magaly might enjoy them. Glad if there is some synergistic effect--you ought to get *something* extra for reading them. ;_) Much appreciated.

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  11. Those eerie dark 3 fetches (I read the link) are so much like the the 3 Fates of legend...How beautifully that poem seems to set the scenario for this one. And the final line about the gargoyles - a poem with its own final line which could be the epilogue to this one - a difficult dream to pin down. A wonderful read.

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  12. I love the detail in this.....the mold along the stem.....and the way that the titles from your other poems just fit so seamlessly into this one.

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  13. I'm sure we the living are considered party-poopers by the dead. Dropping off just when the fun is revving up. Few are we who can go eyeless into that rank dark, or so we think ... I wonder if there's any stopping this poetry hurly-burly once the banging and clanging starts. We'll make poems about our nothing, and the night makes 'em sing ... and o how the gargoyles howl their breathless applause to our aural applesauce! I loved the foodie delectation about that mold -- eew.

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