Sunday, April 17, 2016

Time And The Reap








Time and The Reap



Time may dull away pain
that drives you mad
but time is slow

while madness will grow.
So long ago
in a nightingale's gown

I sang for you;
when I was a wren
I wove.

When I was a reed,
I bent for you
and all the while called it love.

When my breasts were the apples
on Yggdrasil
when my eyes were Lethe's mad run

when my arms and legs were
the loom of the Norns, you found a way
to use each one.

Time remakes me
a bird dying in snow,
a reed gone hollow

missed in the reap;
only my heart
is living yet.

Have you
a use for that 
before we sleep?


~April 2016






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Yggdrasil:Scandinavian Mythology: the world tree-- an evergreen ash which the Norns water and where they sit weaving the fates of men.











Images: Freya, Das Rheingold,
The Fates on Brunnhilde's Rock,  by Arthur Rackham 
public domain via wikimedia commons







Saturday, April 16, 2016

Seal Of The Second Millenium






"My wish is to see you, O lord of persea trees! 
May your throat take the north wind, that you may give fullness without eating and drunkenness without drinking...Pleasant is the utterance of your name: it is like the taste of life...
"Come back to us, O lord of continuity. You were here before anything had come into being, and you will be here when all is gone. 
As you caused me to see the darkness that is yours to give, make light for me so that I can see you ."
 ~Prayer of Neferneferuaten,
from the tomb of the lay priest Pahweh 




 Seal Of The Second Millennium


Ten windings round
and a blob of clay
pressed
with the shape of the soulbird
to hold it fast,
prayed over by white taper priests,
wicks of their arms slick with greased perfume
flickering in the chant heavy smoke

while behind the last door
the king waits in his shell
for journey's beginning
from below the rock hill

to the high back of Nut and the night's
soft descent, 
a chariot of gold to adorn
the road of her flesh, 
a team of ghost horses
to outrun the stars. Such
a journey once started
knows no end.

But for the seal breaker
the foul breath of Set,
the jackal eye before muzzle's gape,
diseased as the mummy's black bones.

Ten twists of the cord
and a last look through the dark
at the golden light
not meant to be owned. Life eternal;
the king that desired it, the priests
that implored it, the sun that
promised it,
someone else will yet have it.

The Nile kept back her gift
for ten dead years
one for each twist, and so
the new god was killed 

while the old gods laughed.
The doors of my second life
were sealed as a shrine
with the soulbird kissed upon my brow.
No more will my face 
be as the disc of the Aten;
the deep river of the necropolis
brings the last inundation.





~April 2016










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Process notes:

The top photo by Harry Burton (source) is of the funerary seal on the fifth shrine of  the tomb of Tutankhamen before it was broken by Howard Carter and his team in 1923, untouched since the pharoah was entombed, three thousand two hundred years previously.


Second photo: "A relief of a royal couple in the Amarna style; figures have variously been attributed as Akhenaten and Nefertiti, Smenkhkare and Meritaten(Neferneferuaten), or Tutankhamen and Ankhesenamun..“ via wikimedia commons

Third photo: The pharaoh Akhenaten and his family adoring the Aten, second from the left is Meritaten who was the daughter of Akhenaten. via wikimedia commons

Nut was the Egyptian goddess of the sky and the cosmos.She was often shown as a woman with her back arched above the earth. Aten was the sun god, especially as worshiped by the pharoah Akhenaten at Amarna.  For a short history of the Amarna period chronology and events loosely incorporated in this poem, see this wikipedia link.







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









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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


Thursday, April 7, 2016

Trout Moon



Fishes and Scales, M.C. Escher



Trout Moon

Beneath the trout moon
glisten the bones
of many happy fish
who thought they could
swim up a moonbeam.

Look at my wrist.
They pose much clearer
here, mouth to tail
silver scale, chained
to show sorrow
to tomorrow.


~April 2016












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Images via the internet, no copyright infringement intended.

Wednesday, April 6, 2016

The Bluebird




The Bluebird



In yesterdays of peppermint 
and temps perdu, you lived with me in
the longhouse, grasshopper thin from fiddling, 
a silversmith of backspin. You carved me
a primitive bluebird

put it rounded in my hand
sitting drawn down
on its toes, fledge-etched in cerulean
soap-smooth, autumn-colored circles
at its too-wise eyes.

You smiled when it stirred,
flipped up
a stopsignal tailfeather,
gaped its open throat
for a worm-friend mother.

I set it among the other birds;
no thing of mine, your gift
but wild its own.
Oracle crows, inquisitor cardinals,
insipid chickens pecked it--

but the bluebird rose in
flutterform arpeggios,
and flew

not to me,
not to you.



~April 2016



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(I have used some from the lists and made up others.)












temps perdu: Fr. for wasted time, lost time


Image:  L'oiseau bleu, 1968, Marc Chagall, via wikiart.org