Monday, November 29, 2021

The First Crack

 
 
 


The First Crack




The first crack
always seems easy to mend,
an almost invisible fracture in
 an otherwise perfect thing; so, too,
 the first pock on the face of the moon.
Yet let a few years pass and her skin
is a ballgown of craters.

So I knew when the peacocks
cracked November with their
idiot's scream, when you spit the last
 blackberry from your stained lips, that the
 first bleach of sun on Rhea's hair
would turn your head, 
make you thirsty

for the black cup of ocean, the yellow
manes of lionesses blowing on the sand,
the kelp smell and the wind-draggled lillies,
leaving me alone in this Pharisee's garden
with nothing but a raddled moon
and the smugness of
peacocks.



November 2021













posted for Shay's









 

 
 
 
Rhea was a Titaness, a goddess, daughter of the earth goddess Gaia and the sky god Uranus, the consort of Cronos and mother of Zeus, as well as grandmother of Persephone and Dionysus.
 
 
 
 
 
 
Images: Lunar Craterr, 2015, ©Æstronomær shared under a Creative Commons License
Peacock Consorts, © Charles Tunnecliffe   Fair Use
 

16 comments:

  1. First off, that opening is nothing but the stone truth. We usually think the first crack is nothing to attach too much importance to, but oh how wrong that can be. Still, one cannot live, treating every mishap as a disaster, and perhaps the peacocks know this before they even utter their cry. Smug loudmouths, maybe they are in league with my (poetic) swans? Anyway, I can't get over the truth of that opening stanza, and the notion of the moon's first crater and what follows is just ideal.

    To me, the next two stanzas represent the beloved turning away from the speaker to go chasing after all manner of disparate excitements, and the peacocks--who aren't much underneath it all without their array of colorful feathers--can attract him without half trying. Then, the ruin and damage hardly interest them either, except to strut and gloat that they could cause all that. At least that's how I read this. To me, it's the portrait of the end of a marriage or relationship. Your singular vision, unique imagination, and very enviable talent for metaphor make this one amazing poem, Joy.

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    1. Thank you, Shay. I love working from your word lists, and this was no exception. Peacocks are indeed just like swans, without the water. ;)

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  2. The first stanza is a deep cratered truth indeed that leads us into so many wonderful visuals given with imagery from cracked November to raddled moon. I absolutely love this Joy!! A brilliant use of the word list that tells a tale and a wisdom too!! Sigh....your talent always amazes me!

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    1. Thank you, Carrie, for your enthusiastic and kind comments always.

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  3. Joy,
    My first comment seems to have gone the way of the ether. To briefly recap, fantastic, brilliant, hugely satisfying read that catches and twists the heart and how you stitched these words together so seamlessly beats me! Your use of the moon as a romantic trope, first in innocence, then with experience, "a raddled moon" is exquisite. High fives and kudos on this ravishing poem.
    Pax,
    Dora

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    1. Thank you so much, Dora. I probably used too many of the words, actually, but they all were delicious and suggestive I thought. I really enjoyed yours as well--totally original and insightful. Hollywood is a fascinating metaphor for so many things.

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  4. We all come into the world unblemished, none leave so - except in some imagined realm of divinity.

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  5. Hedgewitch! I adore your tumble of imagery throughout this whole poem. The frame by frame surrealism and vivid colours speak both of dangerous beauty and some stark feeling, as if learning the truth about someone or something's true nature suddenly makes everything sharper around the edges. Love these phrases:

    "ballgown of craters"

    "the black cup of ocean"

    "the smugness of peacocks." <3

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    1. Thanks, Sun Ra. The truth often hurts, but it also can clarify like nothing else. Appreciate you stopping by, and thanks for joining us at Shay's challenge.

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  6. Such a powerful, hit you with truth poem. I certainly feel it. I love every word. "Yet let a few years pass and her skin is a ballgown of craters." What a visual! I've been living in the troubled dark lately. So need light.

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    1. Light can be hard to find sometimes, Susie, but it's there somewhere. Thinking of you and wishing you strength in what you and your family are enduring right now.

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  7. Like they say in AA, it's the first drink that gets you drunk — so too the first crack unscrolls the kaboom, a tapestry which reveals a "ballgown of craters" (archly put) and an abyss unleashed (in three stellar lines in stanza 3). But alkies drink themselves to death and the year's gonna do its round, surprising even its heralds title to close. A tight, crackly-wise poem, like Rhea chewing the world and blowing its bubble.

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    1. Thanks, B. Things set in motion stay in motion, indeed, until something greater than themselves calls a halt. Always good to see you here, my friend.

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  8. "So I knew when the peacocks cracked November with their idiot's scream" - fantastic. Rich tumble of language throughout as your poetry cracks open language and the world wriggles its peacock feathers and screams for release.

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  9. I am ashamed that I don't remember Cronos' first wife, before Rhea, with all that library reading of myths I did as a 9 year old. Perhaps I missed that volume, or the petite library didn't carry it. Cronos *would* have his head turned by the world, for isn't time really just a way to measure the world of men? ~

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