Monday, December 30, 2024

Sea Shanty

 
 
 
 
 
 


 
 
 
Sea Shanty
 
 
Once I thought I had pain for my oceanliner, but
it was a clipper ship, a visitor skimming
the shallows of easy tears, creaking

in every board its promise of moonlight drowning
the dark-kissing sea in silver flakes,
of fools' journey's-end a Crusoe'd sort of shipwreck

where everything needed is salvageable,
of undiscovered places to find but never know.
But that of course was not pain.

Pain is an ocean
without any ship, flowerless and vast,
no islands of palms and coconuts

no brown eyes dancing
from the landward side of the reef
to blunt

the sharp-split wreckage of spars and bones,
no Man Friday
to carry my white man's burden for me,

to feed me 
on conch meat and keep me alive
with all the driftwood exotica of empire.
 
There is only
the cold that pierces too deep
before it numbs, the struggling silence
 
that floats the water
that slides through my hands
and the
 
constant 
unbearable fear
of breathing it in.



December 2024
 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 


posted for Word Garden Word List at






 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Images: Sea Spray, 1908, pen & ink watercolor, ©Harold Sohlberg   Fair Use
Untitled, ©Zdzislaw Beksinki      Fair Use
 

Monday, December 23, 2024

The Yule Goat

 
 
 
For some continuity in a chaotic time, I repost this Yule poem from 2011 and wish all the happiest of Yuletides, while we leave the New Year to fend for itself. 







Happy Yule to All!

Goat watching

Yule Goat



In December’s dark descent
across crackled breaking sky ice
slivered with dagger snow,
bells ring in whitened night, sharp
hooves stamp on the cloudcloth
shaking pearl dust stripes on
emerald spruces' candelabra arms,
turquoise and white pinwheels
circling their wands
of bitter bark raven haunted.

The god of thunders 
pulls the sun's shadow,
flickering hammer tucked
in his brace of clouds,
drives his twin goats
toward the time when day
and night are strait, equals at last
as Odin's wild hunt 
passes damned, mad,
howling overhead

The Snarler and the Grinder
fleet of foot, heedless of fate
run on; tonight's feast, tomorrow’s
feat, killed for meat this starveling
night, raised at dawn.
Spread the skins and 
let each bone 
fall with care so
those here reborn 
race again on the solar wind.

O bright black eye
split with too much knowledge
devil’s mask, canting voice
of the abyss, god's bearer, hunger's enemy
come bless us this Yule with your
yellow stare, ignite yourself
against the hag’s winter storm,
flute your flames through a straw ribcage. 
Watch us make the old dance new again
under the reckless stars.
 
 






December 2011




In Norse myth, Thor was not only provided with his mountain-shattering hammer Mjölnir, his magical, strength doubling belt Megingjörð, but a chariot in which he traveled through the sky pulled by two goats, Tanngrisnir (Old Norse "teeth-barer, snarler") and Tanngnjóstr (Old Norse "teeth grinder") spoken of in the Prose Edda, who could be slain for food at Thor's discretion then resurrected with the power of Mjölnir and returned to the traces.~ from wikipedia: 'The Yule Goat is one of the oldest Scandinavian and Northern European Yule and Christmas symbols and traditions. Originally denoting the goat that was slaughtered during the Germanic pagan festival of Yule, "Yule Goat" now typically refers to a goat-figure made of straw. It is also associated with the custom of wassailing, sometimes referred to as "going Yule Goat" in Scandinavia.' As always, I've taken a few liberties with the letter of the myths.You can read more about the folklore of the Yule Goat here  and the Wild Hunt here.





Images:
Header Photo: Goat watching, by DAV.es on flick'r
Shared under a Creative Commons License 
Footer Photo: The Gävle goat burning, author unknown
All copyright belongs to the copyright holder

Wednesday, December 18, 2024

Moon Fluff

 
 
 
 

 

 
Moon Fluff
 
(a 55)
 
 I found the moon last night
thrown down in a puddle,
kissing with clouds, a peppermint undone
fished from your pocket-fluff, 
sticky
but still sugarsweet, 
still shiny
with its two-toned jewel-jazz glaze
like that one clean note you'd hit
in your sax-fiasco blues,
tasting of 
lemon and light and
 cold
December 
rain
in the night. 
 
 
 
December 2024
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
posted for Word Garden Word List
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Images: The Moon, 1929, © Salvador Dali     Fair Use
 

Tuesday, December 3, 2024

Mahakali's Kiss

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 
 
 
Mahakali's Kiss
 
 
I'm told it rained on the day she was born,
a January Sunday on streets of snow
that melted away like the life she wore,
like time's black kiss, like a riot of crows.

She makes each thing with a blind innocence
that starts a smolder in a long-dry field
just to leave an ash that cannot rest
til love itself belongs to the dead.

So fill your mouths with her acid, boys,
that seems to taste as sweet as mead.
Fill your arms with her empty husk
whose midnight touch will make you bleed

and when lips rot and skin weeps red
remember her smile and the charm she said
to reap your heart in her willow bed
where she dies of cold as soon as she's fed.
 
 
 
December 2024
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
at Shay's Word Garden
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Process notes:  Mahakali means 'Great Kali,' and is the honorific title of the Hindu goddess of Time, Death and Liberation, Kali, whose name translates as "she who is black" or "she who is the ruler of time." wikipedia: "Mahakali, in Sanskrit, is etymologically the feminized variant of Mahakala or Great Time (which is interpreted also as Death). Mahakali...serves as the agent who allows the cosmic order to be restored.." 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
Image: Goddess Mahakali, Delhi Museum via wikipedia   Public Domain