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Friday, February 2, 2018

Friday 55 February 2 2018

Another Friday, another opportunity to practice the minimalist's craft of creating a coherent piece of prose or poetry in 55 words, no more, no less. Thanks to the G-man, for teaching me/us how, and to all who come by to play here with their minds and pens.

As usual, the 55 will be open from Friday through Sunday morning. To share your bit of word art, please leave a link in the comments below.





My 55:


The Talkers





One could slice
the moon in two
with the knife of a tongue,
the other rubble-up the Grand Canyon
with landslides of voice.

The word-scalpel
probes scarlet-tender wounds,
incises proud initials.

So wonder here in silence:
is it rain plashing past the glass
that kills the paper
or a sudden
rush of pure heart's blood?




~February 2018








Image: Alchemy, or the Useless Science, 1958, ©Remedios Varo    Fair Use.
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23 comments:

  1. BrendanFebruary 2, 2018 at 4:35 AM

    Good question. What is it about talking that incises--going round the truth until there's just a teetering mesa left -- which is so different than cutting to the quick, into to the flooding heart of things? The third stanza enlists poetry for an answer, I think, saying all that can't be said. Enough to suffice to the next 55, iI hope. Kick ass owlry Hedge, tissue for my postmoon sniffles.

    I doff a 55 that way too, sort of ... https://blueoran.wordpress.com/2018/02/02/white-hearse/

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    1. hedgewitchFebruary 2, 2018 at 7:11 AM

      Thanks, B--and that mesa image is very apt. Your bony hearse will perhaps carry away the corpse after all that arterial rush is done. Thanks for playing despite the evil flu.

      Delete
  2. Other MaryFebruary 2, 2018 at 4:35 AM

    Thank you, Hedgewitch. Love your 55. Here is mine: https://othermary.wordpress.com/2018/02/02/early-riser/

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    1. hedgewitchFebruary 2, 2018 at 7:11 AM

      Thanks, Mary--yours really resonated for me. So glad you could play.

      Delete
  3. the walking manFebruary 2, 2018 at 5:49 AM

    I am going with the unbridled torrent of unchecked emotion as the killer. The adrenalin rush is the land of fools and pack wolves who destroy all they encounter. Good one Joy! Back again this
    this week

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    Replies
    1. hedgewitchFebruary 2, 2018 at 7:13 AM

      Thanks, Mark--good to see you back, and with a very potent and timely 55. The stories of deportation you link should chill any feeling, thinking human beng's blood.

      Delete
  4. Magaly GuerreroFebruary 2, 2018 at 9:06 AM

    Blood, it is always blood these days... or, perhaps, the mind can't think that it can be water while the land screams of her own dying. The sharp images in this poem, the fact that every weapon is made by man, out of man bits, or used by man makes this poem so powerful, real, and painful. And that blood in the end... it coats the eyes and trickles into the heart. It burns.

    Here is my bit... which after reading this, feels like a very thin band-aid over a wound the size of a whole body:

    http://magalyguerrero.com/under-winters-shroud/

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    1. hedgewitchFebruary 2, 2018 at 11:29 AM

      Yes, I can feel that echo--thanks dear Magaly--but nothing you write could ever be thin. I hope your torture is more manageable of late. I am still grateful to you btw for reminding me to get my amaryllis going again for spring--they have sat in the dark, frigid realms of the garage for too long.

      Delete
  5. Ginny BrannanFebruary 2, 2018 at 11:05 AM

    Hi Hedgewitch, I followed my friend Mary's poem trail to your site. I'd shared with the G-man in the past, but it's been a long time since I've done a '55.' Hope you don't mind me stopping over here to share this one.
    Thanks,
    Ginny
    Reflections on being a "survivor" of life. shttps://insideoutpoetry.blogspot.com/2018/02/survivor.html

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. hedgewitchFebruary 2, 2018 at 11:30 AM

      Always glad to see an old 55-er here, Ginny. Thanks for playing, and come by any time.

      Delete
  6. Mud GreenFebruary 2, 2018 at 4:49 PM

    incises, incisors, teeth grinding... but have a kick ass weekend anyways.

    from the left coast

    whetstone

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    1. hedgewitchFebruary 2, 2018 at 6:18 PM

      I could use that whetstone for my scalpel, I think...it needs to be sharper, the deeper you go...thanks for plumbing the depths for us in your 55.

      Delete
  7. Susie ClevengerFebruary 2, 2018 at 6:27 PM

    Words, the tongue can cut or heal. Lately it is doing a lot of slice and dice. I love your opening. I hover the line between snarky and wonder seeking. I've got words piling up on my tongue. It's hard to choose which battle I'm going to drop them on.

    Here is my 55. https://blackinkhowl.blogspot.com/2018/02/aspect.html

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    1. hedgewitchFebruary 3, 2018 at 5:56 AM

      I'd say your words are sharp and spot-on lately, Susie, and falling off your pen strong and clear. So glad you gave 55 of them to us today.

      Delete
  8. hyperCRYPTICalFebruary 3, 2018 at 8:30 AM

    By our inaction, I think we all have blood on our hands (or tongues), whether we like it or not.
    That said, we might utter the words (to affect change), but don't possess the necessary power to cause those much needed landslides - we just don't and that is as cutting as any blade.
    And so we bleed...

    Please find my offering here: http://hypercryptical.blogspot.co.uk/2018/02/kill-me.html (I really did need 56.)

    Anna :o]

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    1. hedgewitchFebruary 3, 2018 at 9:31 AM

      Thanks Anna. I agree on the conflict between desire and power. The blood splashes everywhere, and it's hard to dodge it. No problem on the extra word--I sometimes am forced to do that myself. ;)

      Delete
  9. brudbergFebruary 3, 2018 at 8:59 AM

    I feel the words and their power... but even more that silence and the connection into the blood... feels very much like contrasts to me, and how words are being more and more misused.

    Here is mine.

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    1. hedgewitchFebruary 3, 2018 at 9:32 AM

      Thanks, Bjorn. Words are becoming the tools of power, I agree, and it's amazing what evil and soulless speakers can do with them. Appreciate you playing today.

      Delete
  10. Kerry O'ConnorFebruary 3, 2018 at 9:45 AM

    I love the way you turn Varo's paintings into poetry - it is one of my favourite things.

    Mine is a little bit of a posthumus portrait.. Just a quick scribble.

    http://kerryoconnorsother.blogspot.co.za/2018/02/the-uneulogised.html

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    1. hedgewitchFebruary 3, 2018 at 11:24 AM

      Sometimes the quick ones turn out perfectly, oddly enough, and the ones we sweat blood over never have the same intrinsic unity of voice--this was true to the bone, Kerry. Thanks so much for playing.

      Delete
  11. FireblossomFebruary 3, 2018 at 11:07 AM

    Owls never waste words, another example of owl magnificence. But that's not to say that they are silent; wisdom requires expression, even if at night, even if in ciphers. As if I have the slightest clue. To wit:

    http://fireblossom-wordgarden.blogspot.com/2018/02/a-pyromaniacial-glossary.html

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    1. hedgewitchFebruary 3, 2018 at 11:26 AM

      Indeed, owls are always asking that one question, aren't they--Who, who??? Thanks for the kind words, dear Shay, and even more for playing.

      Delete
  12. hedgewitchFebruary 4, 2018 at 12:01 PM

    The 55 is closed till next Friday. Thanks to all who participated, and hope everyone had a kickass weekend. See you next week.

    ReplyDelete

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