Wednesday, April 25, 2012

Redemption




Redemption



On the other side
of the wildest blood
stilled and pooled
in a chapel of decorum,
I would love you then
as much as when the moon
drew out your howl,
as much as when the sea
could not hold all your tears
in all her rolling bowls
and hidden chambers.
For the sake of all you
paid and pay for the
clutched and crumbled
ticket home,
I  love you immutable
or crucibled, then
or now, wherever
you stand
most alone.



April 2012



Posted for   real toads



Challenge: Ella's Edge
 Circles of the Inner and Outer Word






Image: Adam and Eve, Lucas Cranach the Elder, 1533, wood
Public Domain via wikipaintings.org

22 comments:

  1. Best poem I've read in weeks. Tight. Simple unsuspected images enlarge the poem and MAKE me thirsty for the next line and curious for the end--where you most brilliantly said one thing while doing the opposite. Said most alone. But the point is that alone is when love most occurs--love taking two. Not self conscious. Love that most of all.

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  2. A fine alchemy here. Wonderful poem and wonderful Cranach. k.

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    1. this is where i invoke my inability to understand women and what they really want...haha...just speak plainly, my feeble male intellect crumbles under the weight...smiles.

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    2. love---what is there to say of it...it makes no sense and is mysterious, realizing you have it is beautiful...dont ever let go of it...smiles.

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  3. So beautiful, Joy:

    I would love you then
    as much as when the moon
    drew out your howl,
    as much as when the sea
    could not hold all your tears


    After reading this I think I need to go back and redo mine.

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  4. Fantastic writing. Love this one so much!

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  5. "On the other side of the wildest blood" ... Fantastic lines.

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  6. The ending — the last five lines — fabulous!
    K

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  7. Wow, this is amazing! I love all of it~
    This especially:

    "I would love you then
    as much as when the moon
    drew out your howl,
    as much as when the sea
    could not hold all your tears"

    BRAVO!

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  8. I want to put this on my wall. Seriously.

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  9. wowow. wildest blood, oh bring it.

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  10. Wasn't it Paracelsus who said that nothing can be joined that is not first thoroughly separated? This song to a beloved -- I'm going to venture a prodigal -- allows the Other their nigredo and mortificatio of bad, sad, raging hours so that the rinsing, grieving, arising -- and returning -- may happen. "May," because the purest love keeps arms wide no matter what the outcome of the other. Tough work, and the true alchemy's in all the doors that open inside when one gives so much of their heart away. - Brendan

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    1. Yes, a prodigal--they always get the best fatted calf, and I think they always deserve it for the knowledge of what love really is they can bring. Yes, on the opening doors, and in fact, just yes on Yes. Thanks for reading B.

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  11. I love poems which voice the deepest commitment of one to another, and you have combined the inner and outer voices so skilfully in this poem. It is so achingly beautiful.

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  12. This is beautiful..love that has such strength and without end. My poem was more of the nature inside my house...the whir of the carpet cleaner doesn't create an atmosphere for beautiful poetics... :P

    http://confessionsofalaundrygoddess.blogspot.com/2012/04/morning.html

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    1. You made me smile, Susie. I just got through vacuuming. ;-)

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  13. Joy, i don't think there is an ounce of sarcasm in this, so if I am not wrong in that assumption it may be one of the best love poems of all time. Being ungodly emotional for a man...this kind of writing wraps around me and makes me think that there is a place were forever is a possibility. I like that.

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    1. No, I try to keep the sarcasm reserved for politics and such like. Thanks, Corey. I like to believe there's a forever somewhere, an absolute love. Maybe believing makes it so. One can hope.

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  14. I want this on a wall, in a frame, I want to memorize it and whisper it in his ear when he comes home...I love this!

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  15. i get a sense of eternal love after the fall just as there was before the fall. it's there. this piece has a circular quality that hints at the infinite, perhaps a practical way to size it up. i feel it.

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"We make out of the quarrel with others, rhetoric, out of the quarrel with ourselves, poetry." ~William Butler Yeats

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