Friday, January 24, 2020

Blue Norther

Storm Front

Blue Norther

If I saw you now
blue-sudden as a Norther
borrowed cherokee hair gone snowy
wolfhound jaw locked against
the puzzle in your buckshot eyes

would it be as it was, hard with
love and leaving,
full of the boy who wasn't ours,
of jaguar ghosts, bankrupt sacrifice;

an emptying out, a fumbled
 passing on?

~April 2013
reposted January 2020

55 sharply falling degrees, once for the g-man,
and once more for
 earthweal Open Link

Process notes:  BLUE NORTHER:    Refers to a swift-moving cold frontal passage in the southern Great Plains, marked by a dark, blue-black sky with strong wintery winds from the northwest or north and temperatures that may drop 20°F to 30°F in a few minutes.

Image:Storm Front by Vicious Kitten on the now obsolete flick'r  Fair Use


  1. "Blue-sudden" -- by such apprehensions Sappho was pierced by Eros in the first love poetry in the Western canon, an overwhelming which is not rational nor a good idea but ravishes entire. Was this a lover from memory, or a son of such passion, dipped in a sudden cold blue frontal like a baptismal wave? Doesn't matter, this is the speaker's swoon and grief, still sharp as a 55 straight razor as it kisses the proffered throat. Some things can't be mastered or named but in surrender, predated, wild, endlessly bittersweet. Tejas indeedy; even on the mantle the wolf tooth shines dangerously.

  2. would it be as it was...

    The only question we ask of ourselves and others that has the power to frighten me awake at night. I really felt this poem, Joy.

  3. "Hard with the love and leaving", the boy who wasn't ours. the jaguar ghosts. How incredibly beautiful and impactful this poem is. Wow.

  4. Love the same thing the others do, the blue norther. And, of course, the approaching revival of the 55! Like Kerry, I felt this one.

  5. Weather, like scents and sounds, can evoke vivid memories. I felt a charged atmosphere with the coming of the sudden-blue.

  6. The depth of the speaker's pain is overwhelming. So the question.'would it be as it was' continues to haunt. "bankrupt sacrifice"--these words will stay with me.

  7. So much in the this magnificent poem talked to me about aging, and maybe death in the end.

    Love the hair grown snowy... (and I start to see it in myself)


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

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