Thursday, June 30, 2016

Wing Of A Moth






Wing of a Moth




Your kiss
hangs like a moth's wing
on the wet cheek of night,
a flight interrupted, a life
separated from its whole.

It knows
all the tyranny of gravity,
this caress you cloak in air;
the past is loudest when it whispers,
aching where it smiles.

Miles after dreams
I walk soar swim,
miasma'd in a sigh, stumbled
at a stile thrown across the
pasture-path 

where pink-nosed ruminants pull
and chew your weedy lies, sluice
them stomach to stomach
til they drop to show
the truth they always were.

Bright bell of the sun,
ghost of a moth's night shadow,
wild bloom and weed
flower, fly and ring;

between we two wings
let us have lift once again.



 ~June 2016










posted for    real toads








Moth  © Amelia Fletcher, via internet
Weeds and Flowers, by John Henry Twachtman public domain


17 comments:

  1. I enjoyed the themes of decay in this piece. That fourth stanza especially is so descriptive and biting.

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  2. The opening lines of your first stanza were read with a great big sigh in my throat. Such a unique and perfect image of an all too human experience, and one so hard to put into words as well as you do.

    I have missed reading your writing - and this poem is why.

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  3. Hey Hedge - so lovely to read your poetry--the close in this one seems to me to allow a couple to embody (quite literally) a wholeness--the two wings rising up to more than flight or something different from flight--joinder-- So many great lines and images--the tyranny of gravity being one of my favorites, the wet cheek of night, the pink nosed ruminants, the miles after dreams--I'm always afraid to go back in case I lose comment--so these are just coming to the full --the stomach to stomach--it kind of gets twisted in a different direction at the end with the we two wings--(different I mean from the stomachs of the ruminants) to an embodiment of an attempt to be whole, maybe each side the crutch other half--what's kind of nice to in that joinder is that accusation rather falls away by the end--as there is a recognition of like to like. Anyway, enjoyed. k.

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  4. I enjoyed the complete poem, but the phrase "weedy lies" will stay for me for very long, most likely forever. Weedy is such a great descriptor of the way lying works... the way deception spreads... how it consumes and conceals in the most terrible of ways... how it kills slowly.

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  5. The second stanza is just breathtaking. What beautifully presented painful truth!

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  6. So many images to love in this, but my favorite is the tyranny of gravity... somehow I feel there is at least of hope of being Phoenixed from the ashes in the end... maybe we have to reach the bottom before raising again?

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  7. Yes, that opening stanza is especially breathtaking, in a wonder of a poem . Your writing soars. Just lovely, Joy.

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  8. Joy,
    There are pithy and soaring lines (and thoughts) in each of the stanzas here. The images are so immediate there is no mistaking them for anything other than what they are: the truth; the stuff of real experience. This is one of my favorites of yours. Excellent work.

    Steve

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  9. I have never known anyone to more beautifully describe someone talking shit. Love it - the whole thing, not just that.

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  10. The space here -- gossamer, insubstantial, dreaming, neither night or day -- is a texture which is parchment for a thinking heart, the nightingale's song alone well after midnight. Does love ever betray itself, trapped in flesh? On which end of us are they more true? I read it here as both, wing and weed, will and charm, both necessary for the poem's next flight. Like all the other commenters, it's great to read you here.

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  11. There is so much here to enjoy and admire, the second stanza in particular. I love "miles after dreams" because it is such a perfect example of what poetry does....it mixes one idea with another in a dream-like way, miles being so tangible and dreams not. I also love "the bright bell of the sun"! I needed a haircut anyway. *yank yank*

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  12. Your poem's descriptions and rhythm are mesmerizing, Hedge. I love moths and not to piggy back but I also love the section that Fireblossom mentions as well...dream-like indeed.

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  13. Oh, this speaks to my spirit.

    "Bright bell of the sun,
    ghost of a moth's night shadow,
    wild bloom and weed
    flower, fly and ring;

    between we two wings
    let us have lift once again."

    Goodness, what turning of circumstances that a Real Toads prompt could speak so well of what I am going through at the moment.

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  14. Absolutely loved this as a whole -- it wrapped me in wings as I swam and flew through the words. Thanks for sharing.

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  15. only a hint of any garden...works for me!! XO

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  16. between we two wings
    let us have lift once again

    There's so much to look forward to if only they are see to each other's interests with sincerity and tact.

    Hank

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  17. i'm not even sure how to use words to describe how this impacts me. as though it embodies irony: fantastic, romantic love, the inevitable shit that supports it all, yet still the clear-eyed hopefulness at day's end. ~

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