Birthday Moonsong
Born in the wolf moon,
at century's half-crack,
before the moving shadow box
before the singing pocket, the talking hand--
disjecta membra of a war and peace,
nuclear snowflake crystaled in the cold aftermath,
fallout caught and whirled up
by black arms of concrete
into the sweet dance of chemical fog;
all around me
blackbirds falling
from the sky like almanacs
pages open to the gift of silent prophecy
and in the mirror, a white raven
solitary,
a meal, a target, a danger
a meal, a target, a danger
to the flock, burning the eye like
a scarlet poppy
a scarlet poppy
on a gravemound, or
a working girl unbuttoned
hungover
in the convent.
* * *
In the house
at the edge of the world,
with the wolf moon low in the west,
its yellow eye on the scattering stars,
its tongue longing
for the fat white hams of Venus,
the north wind sleets the window glass
bitter green, rattling the taste
of old snow and bad design; the wolf moon
the hunger moon,
stops to lap
stops to lap
pooled pink from blood-red Mars,
swells its belly
with faltering stars, the small and weak
gnawing them out one by one as I hum
dusting the ape statuettes, the
gnawing them out one by one as I hum
dusting the ape statuettes, the
draped clocks, perplexed still
that the empty chair
stays empty another winter,
while the fire throws white shadows,
while ghosts fall with the snow.
~January 2015
A repost for my birthday.
Images:Wolf Dog, 1976 © Jamie Wyrth Fair Use
The Snow Queen Flies Through The Winter Night, by Edmund Dulac Fair Use
Poetasters across the globe should be pointed at this poem and then allowed to wail and beat themselves about the head and body in repentance and shame. This is what poetry should be. Writing of this caliber is why I fell in love with the stuff. This is one of your finest, and that's saying a lot.
ReplyDeleteHappy birthday, dear BFF.
Thanks dear. I'm laughing at all the berating;I'm just glad you enjoyed it.
DeleteAt this point, another birthday is no big deal,but I'm glad we're both here for it.
Goodness, What an amazing poem! I’m with Shay. I am currently wailing and flailing. :)
ReplyDeleteThere's no need, Susie. You are up there with the best of us. Thanks so much for reading.
DeleteSpectacular does not do it justice. I can see why you and Shay are such best friends. You both are absolutely talented in a BIG way!! Love this and Happy Birthday!!
ReplyDeleteHappy birthday Hedge. Moon time is circular and the rounding weave here is apropos for a birth-sign. Your wolf moon lamps my first attempt at writing the intro to my Ghost challenge on Monday. The accomplishment here is both structural and sonorous, the centered poem with its weavy wavering line -- so sinuous, and the tone holds to the distance between ennui and damnation. The last four lines are so haunting. Maybe that's why we keep writing?
ReplyDeleteMany, many happy returns of the day, Joy. And thank you for sharing this extraordinary birthday poem again.
ReplyDeleteWhat an incredible poem....the wolf moon with its eye on the scattering stars.......the blackbirds falling, pages open to the gift of prophecy......absolutely stellar writing. My tablet wont let me comment on your site. Had to get up, fire up the computer (again) and find you via facebook. That's how much I love this poem.
ReplyDelete