Monday, October 30, 2017

The Tree With All The Body's Roses




The Tree With All The Body's Roses


"She sang beyond the genius of the sea. 
The water never formed to mind or voice,   
Like a body wholly body, fluttering
Its empty sleeves..."



The world has parrots.
I'm looking for a songbird
in the jade well of deep forest,
a voice to bucket it up.
Behind the plastic house 

I found blue wildflowers,
watched their petals transmogrify
to wings on seeds 
 blowing like the freckles of stardust
mottling the Milky Way,
to daisy-face another autumn day  
in indigo beyond the swirling suns.

All this because a thousand years ago
in banished nights the apprentice read to me
words of a Northern heart washed up
 on a bleach and dazzle of tropic sand;

to me, his caryatid, words for a girl
 he loved I'd never be, that 
magic could not make me,
to sing beyond the genius of the sea.

Yet she brought me here, that girl,
a statue suddenly animate,
to dig and weed the heart's ground
beyond the ocean drench of chemical hope,
past youth itself in its naked greed, til at last a tree

would raise the mind's branch on which
a bird could land and sing
of all the body's roses we
never see.



~October 2017











"The topic is simple: Love Is Love Is Love… and Words. Let’s art our loves with words in them. You can share a story or poem about why you love writing poetry, or telling tales, or singing, or painting, or dancing, or sculpting, or knitting, or bedazzling the skulls of your enemies and friends… write about the art you are happiest to create.
Your posts must contain at least one magical element and some sort of love(dark love, sweet love, ridiculous love, terrifying love, insane love, gentle love…)..."

(I hope the  young love and transmogrifying magic here is enough, even if it didn't exactly work as planned by the magician's apprentice. )





Rosa 'Pat Austen' ©joyannjones 2013
Clouds in Finland, by Konrad Kryzyzanowski  Fair Use

8 comments:

  1. I am going to have to re-read this a couple of times to get the details, but the feeling just washed over me at the end, and needs no addendum. I feel as if I have spent time in a lush jungle, but one which is oddly partitioned--extra for this one, scraps for the other. Moreover, the entire thing seems dream-like and soap-bubble fragile; all except for the emotional truth at its core. And, without the caryatid, even the most beautiful temple would fall.

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  2. This is so incredibly beautiful!💞 Especially love; "to dig and weed, to till the heart's ground beyond the ocean drench of chemical hope, past youth itself in its naked greed, till at last a tree would raise the mind's branch on which a bird could land and sing of all the body's roses we never see."💞

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  3. There is no deeper love or stronger magic that the energy found in transformation and giving. To be changed (or to accept the change) in order to offer a place, a space... to something unseeing is a miracle of conviction, the sort of wishing that celebrates (and infuses the world with its delights) even before it is granted. It is magic we make--the best, the only one that truly works... and that often loves us back.

    I love the ending best, the promise...

    Thanks so much for adding your transmogrifying magic to my October's Heart-Bits.

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  4. Taking unrequited and using it to create beauty...what a marvellously positive thing for the world. XXX

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  5. Oh I love it! So beautiful!
    blessings
    ~*~

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  6. Heart and art, the impossible pairing, so finely accomplished here ... Beyond parroting, there is a jade well, there must must be, we heard it all those years ago ... Those words for a girl he was approximating too, albeit so finely that even he knew it more than dirtying silence. Down a long hall here, at the end of that venereal sound, lush perhaps though not divine (that would cheapen it). The lines on which this poem perches has such a vantage on the music it so yearns for -- what Stevens did too, for that genius beyond the sea ... So what if the the thing we loved fell so hard? We heard it, falling ... Great stuff. Happy All Hallows, Hedge.

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  7. Your poetry has left me transformed.. and your words have spun imagery within me full of awe and bewilderment! Your writing is exquisite and the painting is deeply gorgeous.
    Victoria

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  8. The apprentice read the truth to you and infused her words into your soul. Such beautiful writing. Such deep understanding. And awesome art!

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"We make out of the quarrel with others, rhetoric, out of the quarrel with ourselves, poetry." ~William Butler Yeats