Stone

Stone

I know I'll be measured

by the thing I couldn't help,

ruled by an epitaph:

'all-my-fault' on a headstone

completely unneeded; stone enough I've been.

Set upright in light with bloodshed and pain

to show 

there's no safety in darkness,

still, still 

I cover my eyes.

 ~August 2014

posted for     real toads

Challenge: Words Count with Mama Zen

That woman of few words, Mama Zen (Another Damn Poetry Blog) asks us to examine if --and how--we are weird. Not far to look for me. Words have been hard to find of late, but I did manage to drag out 46.

Image: Unidentified standing stone between Millstreet and Ballinagree, County Cork, Ireland

Public Domain via wikimedia commons

Don't Look Back

Don't Look Back

Out of the carnage

from the wriggling wreck

what is left

a snatch of song

a smile of peace

gone before the singing  stops.

Impossible to see

what comes next, looking back

as you kill

what pain you can

yet feel it still

in each step on.

Sanity's made from buzz and busy,

a cubical sanctuary;

you can't look back

if you want to sleep

you can't look back

but you, eyes wide, you do

to see just why

there's no forgiveness

no respite, no sacramental

wafer, wishing wine,

heart cupped dry

in the long walk on;

only the thirst,

the broken things,

only the knowledge

dropped from the tree

and the snake who nods

and sings.

~July 2014

Image: Haywain Triptych, circa 1500, by Heironomous Bosch

Public Domain via wikiart.org:

"Although similar to the Garden of Earthly Delights triptych, the Haywain Triptych is a less fantastical and nightmarish depiction of the same tale. From the left to the right, the panels depict God creating Eve from one of Adam’s ribs, earthly humans engaging in all types of sins, and a portrayal of the journey into hell. This journey through good and evil is a much less terrifying tale, as it details the many sins of humans, yet does not detail the frightfully lurid and shocking horrors under the watchful eye of the prince of hell. The outer panels of the triptych, when closed, detail a character called the wayfarer, who makes his way through the panels and through the journey from good to evil, allowing the viewer to place himself inside the world of the triptych, and take the journey along with him."  Ibid.

Stone Ghost

Stone Ghost

A Terzanelle (of sorts)

for RCC

There was a ghost then

who seemed to touch my face

who smiled without the words again,

black horses in a broken race.

He thought he was alive;

I thought he touched my face.

I only counted up to five

fingers of flesh and air;

He thought I was alive

when we walked handfast there

above a sea of dust,

soft dolls of flesh and air,

the sharp cliffs shadowed rust

as sun bleached caryatid hair

waved white in a sea of dust,

snagged on the moon's rocking chair.

There was another ghost then,

with a sun blind caryatid stare,

no smile, only words to make it end.

~May 2014

posted for      real toads

Challenge: Play it Again

Margaret Bednar(Art Happens365) once again asks us to pull a challenge from the abundant archives at the Imaginary Garden With Real Toads. I have chosen Kerry's most recent form challenge, the terzanelle, but with apologies, because, as usual, I've not attempted pentameter, or even a ten-syllable line count, and taken a few liberties as well in slightly altering the refrain lines.

Photo: Caryatid, via wikimedia commons

Hands of Winter

Hands Of Winter

In the time

when day runs away from night

leaving it swelling 

its starveling importance,

when shadow rimes the starling's wing

when the doe-rabbit shivers

in the scant iced grass

pretending to be naught,

winter's hands come
threaded with clouds,

sewing over living and dead

the sleet-seamed shell of cold

that can't 

be wished away.

~December 2013

55 shiny pellets of sleet for       the g-man

Photo ©  joyannjones 2013

Paper Dolls

Paperdolls

She put her gypsy slipper

down in his devil's dance,

drank from an indigo dipper

the shaman spit of trance.

His jesuitical jive

was the music that kept her alive;

in each mask she put crosswise

her own wash denim eyes,

then cut paperdoll lovers apart

from the thin

parchment skin

of a roadkill heart.

.

~March 2013

55 flat dolls in a chain for   the g-man

Hover mouse for image attribution, or click to go to the photographer's flick'r page.