Hounds Howling
Hounds howling in the veins, not delicate
Like infant leaves green tattoos,
A finite green of order and plenty,
But violently carved by the sword of life.
The runes upon the soul
These sounding veins,
Raw channels cut by the torrent of
Floods to the heartsea.
These the bearers seem too slight
Tho they cut through flesh to bone,
Too slight for the weight they carry.
Out in the darkness animal eyes are alight.
Animal words sound beyond the line of sight,
like locust voices burring the high summer
under clouds like wounds in the sky.
The heart, the nerves
Regenerate the whole,
Only quaking in the dusk for sign
For folly, for escape from time.
February 1986
Brian's prompt today was to post something written before the Age of One Stop. I hope 1986 is far enough back.
Beautiful! Escape from time!
ReplyDelete1986! wow..beautiful write..always talented. :)
ReplyDeleteYou captured something special in these lines,
ReplyDelete"These the bearers seem too slight
Tho they cut through flesh to bone,
Too slight for the weight they carry."
I've thought about that many times but never found any way to express it and you got it just right. It conveys the fragility of life so succinctly. Enjoyed this a lot.
Joy, I see you have always had the wonderful gift of imagery, 1986? Wow! Love it!
ReplyDeletePamela
such an intensity in this - great imagery - a raw voice - 1986 - wow - wow - you had your poetic voice already back then...and honed and polished until today...so good to know you hedge
ReplyDeleteHey--1986 is only 25 years ago. ;-) Thanks so much all for reading and commenting, and hopefully we'll all be around to see what we do over the next 25 years.
ReplyDelete1986 wow. My son was born in 1986, it was a good year :) Great imagery...a beautiful write as always.
ReplyDeleteYou wouldn't say "carved by the sword of life" today. Nope.
ReplyDeleteInteresting to see themes and images of 25 years ago still alive in your imagination
ReplyDelete"Animal words sound beyond the line of sight,
ReplyDeletelike locust voices burring the high summer"
Powerful invocations from a forever young and perrenial hedgewitch! Lovely Joy Ann!
@FB: Good Grief, I hope not! :P
ReplyDeletei was 13...just saying...agree with gay on that middle stanza and the closing line as well...cant quite out run it, though i think at times we do believe we can...thanks for jumping in hedge...i would say you have come far...smiles.
ReplyDeleteJoyAnn, What a beautiful representation of that incredible wire sculpture. I felt like that last night with the new moon. :0)
ReplyDeleteBeautiful writing, signature Hedgewitch. Wonderful!
ReplyDeleteA sense of Gothic mystery was filtering through your poetry even way back then! Adored the idea of:
ReplyDelete"The runes upon the soul..."
i love how this rolls, and moves.
ReplyDeleteWow... '86... Such depth for such a fleeting forward moving time... stunning imagery!
ReplyDeleteMy, that way back in '86. Been a long time into blogging! No small wonder you posted such a beautiful verse.
ReplyDeleteAs this poem proves, you had it back then, or rather, you have it now because you had it back then -- primal sounds, deep-hewn verses, venturing the human campfire to enter the wolfscape in their element, or their element in the darker wilderness of the heart. How we need those beasts to remain wild, resilient to cultivation, beyond the borders of what we know and say, though we keep trying, eh? Back in '86 I was writing mostly bad lyrics for moussed-up bighair heavy metal anthems -- glitter for the bignight magnitude. You were about the real work. - Brendan
ReplyDelete"violently carved by the sword of life"
ReplyDeleteI really like that.
Thanks to all who've come by to read, and a happy Independence Day weekend to you.
ReplyDelete@MZ: Thanks--as FB says, that's a cliche I might avoid now, but at the time, it seemed like the right phrase.
@Brendan: Thanks for reading and seeing the wild hunt. AFA what you were writing, sounds pretty normal to me. When I was as old as you were in '86 I was writing such mush and fluff that I wouldn't dare to let anyone read it now. I embarrass *myself* when I read it. ;-)
Subtle assonance and alliteration, rhythm, story, word choice...this has it all. I love "like locust voices burring the high summer."
ReplyDeleteWhat a fascinating picture!
ReplyDeleteThese lines caught my eye:
Out in the darkness animal eyes are alight.
Animal words sound beyond the line of sight,
like locust voices burring the high summer
under clouds like wounds in the sky
*sits obediently while wagging wolf tail* Wow, I am impressed! You could have made this about me, you know. Leiffy makes a good wolfie.
ReplyDeleteAmazing that these words echo my own sentiment recently when it comes to my own writing. You never cease to amaze me when it comes to sage advice.
Also, your favorite captain misses you. If you catch up now, you won't be as surprised next week when you see what happens ;)
Hey, LV--welcome aboard. The good stuff is universal, I think, and we all pass it around and play with it in our little brain cages, giving it our own twists. Thanks for reminding me that the latest installment of The Wicked Cat was up--loved it, as always.
ReplyDeleteWow, written 25 years ago, a generation, and still yes powerful and rich.
ReplyDeleteI really like thinking of 'animal words' — not something I had ever considered that way. Funny how just that phrase shifts something.
And your heart, nerves and voice regenerate the whole.