Circe Speaks
After twenty-six cups of wine
a warrior turns into a swine.
They called it witch's sorcery, poison lore;
but really, all I ever did was pour
~August 2012
Posted for OpenLinkNight at dVerse Poets Pub
A short one, to make up for all the long ones, and double shots lately. I *have* included an extra, completely optional poem, for those who care to go there, though.
A short one, to make up for all the long ones, and double shots lately. I *have* included an extra, completely optional poem, for those who care to go there, though.
~*~
Circe Speaks also appears at Imaginary Gardens with Real Toads today, as part of a personal challenge writing exercise on bad girls and the bad, bad things they do. Since Toad-in-Chief Kerry O'Connor has suggested it, if interested you can read my sonnet inspired by Lady Caroline Lamb which also appears there below:
Caro's Sonnet
I saw your midnight eyes fix on me, love
without a speck of kindness in their glow.
I should not have loved this long, to see you prove
my point: 'mad, bad, and dangerous to know,'
but your spoken candle threw a luring light,
the moth soul shattered its shell of silent doubt.
Then thirst and scorn gave in to lover's night
till the moth was dead, the candle guttered out.
It seemed well worth it, all the things I lost,
my place, my peace, my sanity at last
to chase your lies and never count the cost,
to drink your hate, for love emptied too fast.
The dust of that scarlet poppy fills my cup;
now all that's left me is to drink it up.
~August 2012
Header Image: Circe Invidiosa, by John Wiliam Waterhouse, 1892
Public Domain, via wikipaintings.org
Footer Image, Portrait of Lady Caroline Lamb, by Sir Thomas Lawrence
Public Domain, via wikimedia commons
"As I dug you digging me in Mexico"
ReplyDelete'the simple act of an oar's stroke/put diamonds in the sea..'
DeleteI really do love this-- I think it's just terrific - but I wonder why you don't write "into"? Instead of "turns to" - since he's not really turning to, in terms of talking to, or pivoting towards- but morphing? I appreciate there's a certain openness in leaving it as "to" and it plays to another side of my appreciation, but my legalistic side - well, you know - it always goes for the precise - I'm sorry - I think it's a wonderfully clever and descriptive poem either way - k.
ReplyDeleteWell, it was a meter thing for me, mostly, trying to balance the stress syllables, but I've changed it a bit to accommodate both my ear and your reading. Thanks for the input, Karin.
DeleteNo fixing necessary - and I'm not sure you changed anything and should't - and I do understand that the "into" is more sing-songy. I'm sorry if I seemed to be second-guessing - what I am really is simply curious about decision-making in poetry. I've done the same with "to" sometimes and into, and quarrel with myself, and it is the kind of thing I can get a bit stuck on, so interested to see how/why someone else handles. I know that's it's the type of thing that a lot of people don't think about, but my brain fixates on these kinds of things (unfortunately) --k.
DeleteNo problem--I changed my comment a bit as it was long winded, and I think you saw the old one before I changed the poem itself. Regardless, there really wasn't a giant thought process here--I think it works either way, but since you're interested--'turns to' also sounded more archaic a construction--which was sort of the mood. But I'm happy with the way it reads now, a bit more detailed, which never hurts. We have now written twenty times more lines in analysis than the poem itself. Ha!
DeleteI love this sassy little poem, and I do hope you will post your RT personal challenge response here, where your many readers may enjoy the experience as we have.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Kerry. Since you suggested it, I have added the sonnet. I encourage anyone interested in the backstory of Caro and Byron, to follow the Toads link above, where I go into more detail.
Deletedon't blame the one that pours for what ends up in your gullet...and goes to your head for sure...even if you did make sure his cup never got below half...ha...reminds me a bit of college days...grins
ReplyDeletenah...don't drink it...you can never be sure about scarlet poppy dust...just saying...wonderful work on the sonnet hedge...it doesn't feel like form poetry at all but flows just so naturally...excellent
ReplyDeleteThis is compact enough to be perfect...love the idea,the style, everything here. Great job of taking the old and making it so very contemporary.
ReplyDeleteWow, you did sink your teeth into the challenge (fantastic article, sonnet, and gem here). I offer Circean poison (applause).
ReplyDeleteI love them both, fantastic imagery in both, as always.
ReplyDelete"love emptied too fast," indeed.
Hedge--loving this--all I did was pour ;)
ReplyDeleteAh, what fantastic toasts to mythology, with the rapier wit of an Hilaire Belloc! Both one could raise the glass to - but that first quatrain, what a gem!
ReplyDeletethis is a compelling sonnet. "shattered its shell of silent doubt" ha! to finally know the light is out and the cup filled with dust.
ReplyDeleteI can identify with this poem (something from my past!) Great one....
ReplyDeleteLove the spin...somehow it made me think of I was only following orders!
ReplyDeleteHedge...both just wonderful...but as a girl who pours with intention...the first REALLY resonated...I may not brew the poison...doesn't mean I don't know how to use it :) Bottoms-up!
ReplyDeleteThis should be printed on t-shirts for barmaids everywhere! ;) Love it!
ReplyDeleteThe first- why do they always blame the woman? And then burn us at the stake. Still!
ReplyDeleteLove them both...this stanza wonderful...It seemed well worth it, all the things I lost,
ReplyDeletemy place, my peace, my sanity at last
to chase your lies and never count the cost,
to drink your hate, for love emptied too fast.
Great write.
love emptied too fast....enjoyed both your poems immensely
ReplyDeleteRawr! Say it, Circe. Love the quick one and the sonnet both. Gotta look out for those poppy drinks though.
ReplyDeletePeople just don't understand. It's ALWAYS the woman's fault. I find it all quite tiresome, Lambs. Here I am, pure in every intention, full of love for every living thing, but let one guest (who only coincidentally sits on one of the same boards as I do, and is consistently imbecilic and wearying) fall down the cellar stairs during one of my gala parties, and everyone points their nasty little fingers at me. I was in the other room, helping young Lance Van Deusen straighten his cummerbund! I had nothing to do with it! What my gardener Enrique does, he does on his own, so if he left his rake lying at the top of the stairs at the crucial moment, what can i have had to do with it? *smirk*
ReplyDeleteAir kisses,
Babs
PS--That little poetry rat Fireblossom says that she'll comment on your longer poem over at Toads, whatever that is. I'm sure you'll be on tenterhooks until she does.
The staff--always so difficult to control! I do so sympathize. I must admit, I've been waiting all day for the Judgement of the Blossom of Fire to fall from the sky--but my hooks are not tentered, that I know of, anyway.
DeleteAll I did was pour--I am with John--just following orders--smiles---
ReplyDeleteLove the way the four liner reads, and for the second poem:
ReplyDeletethe moth soul shattered its shell of silent doubt. - is just gorgeous.
All I ever did was pour. That's great! Fine work as usual!
ReplyDeleteLoved them both. The sonnet was elegant. Inspiring to read your work. I always want to go off and edit, write, think things over again.
ReplyDelete
ReplyDeleteCirce Speaks
this is too good hedge - witt -
a perfectly wicked little package
and a treat to relish
The bad girls
made me into a warrior.
Badder girls still
kept my company
when i returned from the war . . .
all in the name
of taking my mind off of
the evil things
i-sore ;I
. . . they all made me drink
in an effort to block out the sink
whole world . . .
but where would i be?
without those bad girls
pawing over me! :D
.......... an excellent combo hedge
your wit and spark ignites the imagination
and always revitalises my energy for the subject!
Thanks for the gratis poem, Arron--bad girls have seriously good pawing skills. Thanks for reading at whatever ungodly hour it is over there.
Delete"But your spoken candle threw a luring light....."
ReplyDeleteThat is just beautiful joy..... Bravo!
Inspired! Enjoyed both!
ReplyDeleteCirce..just another sexy bartender...why blame her for the pig he turned out to be...Love it, Hedge!
ReplyDeleteNice!
ReplyDeleteI love them both..."all I ever did was pour"..so true! Fantastic, as ever! :)
ReplyDeleteYes ~ all I ever did was pour ~ I love the lack of responsibility!
ReplyDeleteI think they're both terrific.
ReplyDeleteOn Circe: way to get back for all those Ladies' Nights. On Caro: she sure made her disordered bed, didn't she?
ReplyDeleteYes, the Circe street is two way. AFA Caro, love is fine and good, but obsession is seldom a good lifestyle choice.
DeleteBoth are lovely, Joy Ann. I love this line;
ReplyDelete"the moth soul shattered its shell of silent doubt." that is a great visual.
Of course, "all I ever did was pour", definitely shows total lack of responsibility.
Great poems.
Pamela
I was thinking, total sarcasm. ;_)
DeleteI think both poems are lovely. The first is short and funny. The second is a sad story. Both written so cleverly they kept my full attention and I enjoyed them thoroughly. You have so much talent.
ReplyDeleteLove them both particularly the sonnet. Excellent stuff. (All I do is pour too...)
ReplyDeleteAnna :o]
Amazing! Loved each and took me to a special place, especially sonnet. Wonderful writing...
ReplyDelete-Eva
What great writing is this! You are consistently "on" with your skill...
ReplyDeleteenjoyed the first, fell in love with the second! so happy you shared both, Joy.
ReplyDelete♥