Fusion
After the fire has
almost burned out
low as the grate
in your velvet voice
heard nowhere but my
mind’s eye
a single teal flame
unlikely, match small, foxtrots
with the sparks
as the chimney’s
percussion fades and
night settles on my
shoulders,
my shawl when the sun
dies.
A heavy stare is all I have to bring
that fragile blue flame-atom
nearer
to fill the hollows where
love's
narrow bit has cored every bone
with light and left no
marrow.
I seek an unbearable
density, in heat
burning bright at the forge of tomorrow
pulled from the dark hearts of seventeen stars
curved in
a constellation of fired glass
that jewels the black navel of a godling
as finite and feathery as
Einstein’s eyebrow,
swirling a spiral
benediction with his cape of the worlds,
whispering in velvet
from the deep blue dark:
Love like mass is fungible
and can neither be
created nor destroyed.
April 2012
Posted for real toads
Open Link Monday
Image: Hubble telescope picture of T Pyxidis* from a
compilation of data taken on Feb. 26, 1994, and June 16, Oct. 7, and
Nov. 10, 1995, by the Wide Field and Planetary Camera 2. Public Domain via wikimedia commons
* "T Pyxidis (T Pyx) is a binary star system in the constellation Pyxis estimated at about 1,000 parsecs (3,300 light-years) from Earth. It contains a sun-like star and a white dwarf. Because of their close proximity and the larger mass of the white dwarf, it draws matter from the larger, less massive star which causes periodic thermonuclear explosions to occur. T Pyx is a recurrent nova and nova remnant in the constellation Pyxis." ~wikipedia
Oh I love the condensing of elements in your poem. Whispers and eyebrow filaments with dense mass. Where does fire come from? And how 'bout love? Like your poems, exploring is as much fun as the answer we long for.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Ruth. We may never know where anything really comes from, but its impossible not to want to dance with it all anyway, I think.
DeleteI adore the scientific metaphors and lovely lines like "my shawl when the sun dies." Fantastic poem.
ReplyDeleteMike
Wonderful. I also really like the night shawl, but, of course, it's the ending that I like best - so strong and direct and tying it all together. (It's terrible that being a lawyer, when I think of fungible substances, I often think of money. I'm sorry to raise this in light of beautiful poem. Though in a way, it made this all the purer.)
ReplyDeleteBut from start to finish - fire in grate and fusion and teal and seventeen stars and Einstein's eyebrow (which is feathery in the true and not imagined sense of the word - dense as an actual bird--), this is just really terrific.
k.
Thanks, k--glad you liked god's Einstein eyebrow--that's my favorite line.
DeleteToo many lovely lines to mention. Your poetry is always rich in unimaginably brilliant images, but this time you have surpassed yourself:) Just beautiful.
ReplyDeleteTo me love is an energy that vibrates between people, and the world around us, so I immediately related to your conclusion here: it can neither be created nor destroyed.
ReplyDeletewow love the truth you conjure in the closing stanza hedge...there is truth there...your flow of imagery is really cool as well...my fav stanza...
ReplyDeleteI seek an unbearable density, in heat
burning bright at the forge of tomorrow
pulled from the dark hearts of seventeen stars
curved in a constellation of fired glass
that jewels the black navel of a godling
a bit of magic that....kinda like love...
"foxtrots with the sparks" I love that.
ReplyDelete"that jewels the black navel of a godling" And, I love that.
Okay, I'll stop now.
Beautiful! My favs:
ReplyDelete"I seek an unbearable density, in heat
burning bright at the forge of tomorrow
pulled from the dark hearts of seventeen stars
curved in a constellation of fired glass
that jewels the black navel of a godling"
and the last stanza.
I love these:
ReplyDelete"night settles on my shoulders,
my shawl when the sun dies.
My heavy stare is all I have to bring"
"that jewels the black navel of a godling"
"a single teal flame
ReplyDeleteunlikely, match small, foxtrots with the sparks" LOVE IT!!!
incredible.outstanding.superlative. speechless! the wonderful movement of the lines with its amazing wordplay (narrow, marrow hollow, tomorrow)and brilliant expressions was too good.
ReplyDeleteOpening a can of cosmological whoop ass is indeed a great way to start a Monday. Your writing is very intellectual wihout being too much so, you temper it with a depth of emotion seldom matched and even more seldomly placed into the backdrops you create...makes you one of a kind really...at least thats this mans thought on the subject...for whatever thats worth.
ReplyDeleteIt's worth a lot, Corey--thanks. Glad you dug it.
DeleteLove it Hedge specially the 5th stanza and the concluding lines. Great piece ~
ReplyDeleteHappy Monday ~
I wonder if there is, in fact, an equation to describe love - or whether love will always be an inequality, with one side always swelling more and the other squandering it. Your exposition of the emotional against the physics of the cosmos brings questions like these to mind.
ReplyDeleteAnother fantastic piece Hedge. Love the image and allusions here. The ending lines message is so very strong. Really enjoyed. Thanks
ReplyDeleteThe bar. Hand it over now and no one has to get hurt. Haven't we talked about this? Haven't we hashed this out, struggling over the cursed thing until both our hands are raw and sore from grappling over it? Haven't we both vowed not to raise it any more? Haven't we both relented, bald-headed and exhausted, vowing to stop the insane escalation? I thought it was all settled, and then, this.
ReplyDeleteOh, don't look so innocent. Do you recall writing this:
"to fill the hollows where love's
narrow bit has cored every bone
with light and left no marrow."
or this?
"pulled from the dark hearts of seventeen stars
curved in a constellation of fired glass
that jewels the black navel of a godling"
You could have stopped after a few words. You could still have reconsidered even after all of these. But no. You went on, with that ending. The whole thing has "Hedgewitch at her best" written all over it, so don't EVEN try to say that Chinook wrote it, or that it fell through the mail slot, or from the sky.
I'm going to have to send a note home with you. I want that bar, on my desk, by seven tomorrow morning, or else, Missy.
Sincerely,
Edna Fireblossom Featherduster-MacFarquhar, headmistress
*retreats behind Chinook cowering* Y-y-yes, ma'am. Please, just don't send the zombie unicorns again. I still haven't gotten the smell out of the wytchwood.
Deleteoooh i love this and corey has it right, the whoop-ass of the cosmos, right here! yes, indeed. as my kids are heavy into the solar system right now, i found this particularly endearing... and i just also dig geeky things turned into great beauty. YES.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Marian--I really know nothing about physics but I like to play around with the ideas in it a lot. And the stars--well, that's what they're there for, right?
Deletewow hedgey: you've captured something cold with in the terrible heat. I love how you captured a fantasy feel to this, or perhaps I am watching too many episodes of Game of Thrones, but the night falling like a shawl, the tenderness of your narrator: how dearly s/he speaks of science like a lover, a dragonslayer, an old constant. And of course this:
ReplyDeletethat fragile blue flame-atom nearer
to fill the hollows where love's
narrow bit has cored every bone
with light and left no marrow.
love this piece to pieces. Viva la
Thanks, Izy--and no such thing as too many episodes of GoT(tho I've only read the books.)
DeleteThe more I read about what's out there (or down at the bottom of seas), the more I'm convinced that heart is writ both large and small. This fireside meditation (what in my lexicon would be called a shore) hunkers down to irreducibles in the physics of fused stars and the actual distance between I and Thou. What is that cannot be "can neither be created nor destroyed" - is that which fuses in the deep part of the heart's cooking vessel, where blue is cool, a stellar saxophone playing a slow dance for all eternity. Stanzas 3, 5 & 6 rocked the casbah for me.- Brendan
ReplyDeleteYou have this uncanny way of blending intelligence with heart and imagination. It's what makes you an E ticket ride.
ReplyDeletefeathery as
ReplyDeleteEinstein’s eyebrow,
and the night shawl is beautiful too. I never liked science or math in school, (too much memorization) but I love reading science magazines (Discover) and I absolutely stand in awe of this poem!
So many visual treats here, and science ones too...this is just really a cool write! Totally cool.
ReplyDelete