Summer Surrender Spell
In through the shutters, out through the blinds--
the mind hangs on to the thing that chimes
--dark or tattered, dispelled of charms
--dark or tattered, dispelled of charms
in through the lashes, out through the tines.
Summer ploughs under
the pewter of winter
myrtle hair unbraids and tangles
like sweat in july rivers its trickles
one line at a time
down the neck of an alabaster
waiting disaster, crumpling, crushing
a blouse of pink crepe
too film-thin for farmwork
too real for mistakes.
Over and over she pours out the kettle,
green fire floating on milky murk.
The upside-down
unlabeled bottle of birth
splashes stars on the time-dry dust at her feet
falling lost on the wildfire wind in her face
while the sun burns up what the rain tries to make--
the singer sings on the chime of the song--forever and gone
with what comes along when the moon goes home.
with what comes along when the moon goes home.
~May 2014
Process Note: Dashes in homage to the mistress of slant rhyme, Emily Dickinson.
posted for
Meeting the Bar at dVerse Poets,
where Karin Gustafson (ManicdDaily) asks us to experiment with slant rhyme,
and for real toads,
where Kerry O'Connor(Skylover, Skywriting) advocates the use of a literary(and visual arts) convention called Pathetic Fallacy. Not sure if I have done that, or just some extended personification in this metaphorical ramble.
Optional Musical Accompaniment
(including early historical use of the word 'groovy')
Image: rose pinwheel, copyright joyannjones, 2014
fascinating...the endcaps in italics...that first one sets the tone well...and the cadence/rhythm of it...my fav lines, cause i know you love copy/paste...smiles
ReplyDeleteThe upside-down
unlabeled bottle of birth
splashes stars on the time-dry dust at her feet
a life poured out, the stars are vibrant, but pairing them with dust dired with time makes for a cool effect. the too real for mistakes lines as well
great to see something new by you as well. shalom, my friend
Summer ploughs under
ReplyDeleteThe pewter of winter
what a brilliant start.,it just pulls you in, and make you want to read aloud ... And the stanza with the blouse.. Just so visual ;-) yes you took the inspiration from the right place.. So great to reds your poetry again.
Flawless in the slant form, this poem speaks to me; the first two stanzas stand out with -
ReplyDeletemyrtle hair unbraids and tangles
like sweat in july rivers its trickles
one line at a time
and....
a blouse of pink crepe
too film-thin for farmwork
too real for mistakes.
..but then the next line -
'Over and over she pours out the kettle' did it for me..all made me feel a certain recognition of a woman's life of hard work, the images you intended, I hope, and was very moving and rhythmic.
Brilliant writing, especially love "The upside-down unlabeled bottle of birth
ReplyDeletesplashes stars on the time-dry dust at her feet". Amazing.
Thanks everyone--I am out for the count tonight but will be around tomorrow.
ReplyDeleteHey joy-- couldn't wait! Ha! The slant rhymes and the pathetic fallacy interlace here in a very interesting way-- you also use enjambement (plus punctuation) super well . I think the punctuation is important as one
ReplyDeleteMight not follow over from that trickling line of sweat to the pink- crepe blouse which felt to me to be an important segue. I am on damn phone so incoherent but I love here how to me the animate and inanimate are reversed -- I see the pink- crepe bloused alabaster as you , the pale gardener, while the water and watering vessel become so live and lithe. The two opening stanzas felt especially compelling to me-- the shutters and blinds and the lashes (like eyes and whips!-- get to work!) and the tines-- I guess a rake-- and winter's pewter, wildfire wind-- I can't look at it without losing comment! But there is this surrender going on for sure. The sandwiching stanzas work well. Almost lost this a couple of times wo will post.k.
An incredible read, boffo juxtapositions, lovely lively wordsmithing; and since so many before have quoted their favorite lines, your entire piece has been lovingly reconstructed here in the comments--and yes, every stanza holds dusky jewels, profundity, & heart. Incredible effort, and brilliant use of the prompt.
ReplyDeleteWonderful to see da Witch back in da house!!!
ReplyDeleteit reads effortlessly - like the perfect seam hidden.
ReplyDeletethat has a beautiful feel of nature, myth and the wonder it brings... love how you personify - the singer on the chime of songs has such a dreamy feel as well... it's raining here today... i long for summer... so good to see you in the pub hedge
ReplyDeleteI have really come to admire slant rhyme and need to play with it more. The beginning is so alive - I have a feeling you are "living" it right now in your gardens… This just scream of spring and summer, of the balance we try to make when the sun is too hot, the rain too much (or not enough in some places).
ReplyDeleteBeautiful feeling of nature's timelessness, the turn of the seasons, yet human presence is there too and there is something slightly sinister underlying there (the milky murk). My favourite stanza is the one with the alabaster and blouse of pink crepe - very visual, very evocative...
ReplyDeleteGorgeous words!
ReplyDeleteWell hello again, and welcome back ... This poem to me is a compost of poetries, with nods to slant rhyme (which may be the only form of rhyme that still works in the age of weary irony) and Emily Dickinson's relentless hyphenation--causing the mind to leap and wing faster than the speed of thought--Worked into the loam of personal history at the time when it's appropriate to break a sweat and lean into the job. And all of it fertile. Even though the first stanza refuses the way of the charm, it's deviously and perfectly so. The slant rhyme here has pattern and then it doesn't, which makes it sort of a jazz rhyme, more improvisational, defiant both of strict sound and pattern ... I take this poem as proscenium to a summer of poems, the penitential alms offered to history's bones so that high folk mass can commence. Groovy. Now we can enter summer, with Hedge back in the fray ...
ReplyDeleteThanks, B--don't know if I'm fully back yet, but this one bubbled up and seemed to fit the occasion(s.) I see Summer as Brighid, usually,(as she was in Illinois) the Lady of flowers, food crops and fine times--here in Okyland she almost always surrenders and becomes another sort of cailleach. This year looks to be particularly brutal. And thanks for noticing the personal motifs as well--I am not one who understands jazz, but I can feel its alliance of music and intellect, much like mathematics, even if beyond me. Appreciate the insights.
DeleteI do love the italics at the start and end. Beautiful descriptive detail!
ReplyDeleteLovely jubbly - your half rhymes and slant rhymes together with the rhythm give it the feeling of full rhyme in formal metre. Very clever.
ReplyDeletenice to see you here... lovely write... beauty in every line... loved the discription
ReplyDeleteIncredibly visual and visceral .. I could see and feel Oklahoma's long, hot, dry summer, the fields and farms, wide open spaces ... This poem is compelling.
ReplyDeleteitalics are slant and you've set the stage for what's to follow: the prance of distant seasons, sweat of your own skin, it's not what goes up, but what goes out, must come in. good to see you shake off the mulch and bring us this, Joy ~
ReplyDeleteAside from the technical aspects of this poem, the rhymes and inclusion of pathetic fallacy, I have to say that this is just a lovely, lovely poem for the reader. The first quatrain invites one in to the experience of the central description, the elements of nature feel alive because they are, in the poet's eye, and the well-know subject of the seasons takes on a hue and mood all its own in your capable hands. I am so pleased you came out of spring hibernation for this challenge. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteThank you Kerry. This comment made my day.
DeleteBeautiful work! From the start, electrified my blood. Cheers.
ReplyDeleteLove this. So well done.
ReplyDeleteThere is a string of riddles--most notably the last stanza; a delightful composition. I keep trying to get my teeth in-- esp. where "alabaster" starts, but the scene keeps moving, quickly and lusciously, very much like summer herself. gorgeous, admirable work.
ReplyDelete