Two Crows Make A Zodiac
Winters at white dawn, before the first gaudy ransack of a
scold of jays, two crows come to her feeding cup.
They have no elfish hands to hold interwoven as otters
do, to keep each other close on cold waters, but still
they float down on air as joint motif. Not one crow,
but two, for in any functional lexicon, the complete set
of meaningful units is not one. They eat a dozen peanuts
with the focus she applies eating her mistakes, but with
their own goblin squawk and savoring, a black-suited pair
laughing like undertakers on holiday, the charm of a child's
toys in their round eyes as they celebrate this meal,so much
more efficient than pecking through reticulated rubbish, so
much quicker than sieving crushed bladders or hearts tarry from
asphalt, than abrupt blare-interrupted flutters on the flat luck
of skunk or raccoon, where they must thrust their razor beaks
like needles through black blood glitter, scrape hard bone
clean to sew lost life from ruined flesh to full feathers. They
are complete either way, but the woman has made it easier.
Two crows make their own zodiac, seven stars make Orion,
the time-twisted woman who sets out peanuts
makes a pageant in vapor, a blood-let of generosity,
a late arrival at sufficiency; for in any functional lexicon,
the complete set of meaningful units
is not one.
January 2022
posted for
Shay's Word List #11:
This poem makes no attempt to capture Hughes' style or Hughes' own vision of
Crow and his journeys, that epic exploration of folk-tale and myth which rewards the
reader's time with much more content and flourish than I could ever hope
to muster.
But when I think of Hughes, I think of Crow, and so, this poem.
Note: For those interested, here is some background on Hughes' collection of poems exploring Crow:
After his wife Sylvia Plath's suicide, Hughes wrote nothing for three years. Then he began a work which was finally published as Crow:from the Life and Songs of Crow. As stated by the Ted Hughes Society, it "holds a uniquely important place in Hughes oeuvre. It heralds
the ambitious second phase of his work, lasting roughly from the late
sixties to the late seventies, when he turned from direct engagement
with the natural world to unified mythical narratives and sequences. It
was his most controversial work: a stylistic experiment which abandoned
many of the attractive features of his earlier work, and an ideological
challenge to both Christianity and humanism..He looked back on the years of work on Crow as a time of imaginative freedom and creative energy, which he felt that he never subsequently recovered...."
Images: Crows in Winter, © N.C. Wyeth Fair Use
Detail from Crow's Song © Andrea Kowch generously accessible at her website Andrea Kowch Studios Blog where you can and should see the entire painting. Fair Use
I will try to do this justice. First, the ending went straight through my heart. Not to it, through it. The elegance of this poem carries on its lines the natural expediency of the crows, and the "lexicon" created--though not the one you're writing about--is black and beautiful and shiny as obsidian.
ReplyDeleteI know you are a feeder of birds, as I am, and to watch them float down as they do, with their inborn careless grace is humbling and thrilling. Such things one finds for the price of a few peanuts! I love that what you describe here turns out not to be just a twinning, but a troika, with life itself trailing behind and ahead of it. Is that too grand a reading of this prosaic scene? I don't think so, for it is in seeing the beauty and remarkable in every day life that we find a spark denied those who blunder along heedless of these things. It's uplifting (she said, bird reference intended). Moreover, you know I love crows, both for themselves and as metaphors. Just lovely, honest, meaningful stuff, and Hughes would love that it is all wrapped up in a seemingly straightforward description of natural behavior.
I want to say, also, how much i love the images you've used. I've noticed Kowch's work before, but both paintings are striking and lovely.
Thanks so much for writing this for my list prompt, Joy. It's just the thing I needed this morning.
Thank you so much for your in depth reading, Shay. I enjoyed writing this, but am humbled offering anything after reading yours.
DeleteA pleasant meal is so welcomed every once in awhile. I feel the affection you have for the crows and their mostly hardscrabble lives. I also feel the affection you have for the woman who feeds them. I like learning about Hughes. Another author/poet to add to my list to read.
ReplyDeleteHe has a very dark vision at times, Li,but he is a very fine poet.
Delete"They have no elfish hands to hold interwoven as otters
ReplyDeletedo, to keep each other close on cold waters, but still
they float down on air as joint motif." - I absolutely love how you say so much about their relationship here, it's so beautiful, the joint motif - adore! <3
"the focus she applies eating her mistakes" - wow!
"a black-suited pair laughing like undertakers on holiday"
And then the last three stanzas, Joy, there's such beauty and wisdom there. You're right, a meaningful unit is many operating in some unified whole and that's the beauty of it - or so I've interpreted it anyhow.
Your imagination is absolutely riveting, Joy. I love this world you conjure up. I am again lost in the gothic fairytale. There is no way out and I don't care because I am spectator to some wonderful scene unfolding. Beautiful work <3
Thanks so much for this really lovely comment, Sunra. I'm glad you enjoy my poetry as much as I enjoy yours.
DeleteOh, wow, Joy. This poem is a whole journey. Such impact in the repeated lines about meaningful units, as we single gals so well know. I love a poem with crows in it, and love that the woman feeds them. Really enjoyed the lines about laughing like undertakers. Glad i didnt miss this poem.
ReplyDeleteThank you dear Sherry. I knew this one was up your alley.
DeleteLots of great things come together here: The crow-paramours (or wingmen) who read the heart like a zodiac, fatefully joined with the feeder in a tense constellation; the wild grittiness of Hughes (an empathy which suits up as bear and crow); and the long wintry lines peppered with icy bon mots in striding ease. Solitude is the ghostly shadow tracing those crows as they fly off across the snow. Bardic 'cause its sung from the gout in the gut. Amen.
ReplyDeleteThanks,as always B. For your crisp and accurate read, i.e., for getting it. I re-read some of Hughes' poetry before I wrote this--his is a very strong talent and I'm sure he was an influence here--his poems of the natural world are not your grandmother's rhapsodies on pretty flowers and cute critters. I was going to post this to your Green Fire challenge, but then something else popped up.
Delete"flat luck"
ReplyDeletei love that term for what happened to those scavenged critters, brutal, but spot on. there are some layers here, under some camouflage. i feel a deep sense of loneliness in this, i feel the feeder's envy of the "complete set" of crows, or stars... 12, 7, 2, by any definition, is a set, but never 1. there a lot going on here, but i can't shake the feeling of loneliness in this. and always, i'm blow away by your skill, every word perfectly placed, i'll never know how you write these so fast
Thanks, phillip. The "flat luck" fell in my lap on the two-dozenth re-write of that couplet. You wouldn't think a couplet could give you that much trouble, but I spent a lot of time agonizing over this one--one of the things I like about Shay's lists is that you really want to write something decent for them because she picks such good words and poets. I started rereading Hughes, and I couldn't just write some fluffy non-thing. That man had some serious pain going on, and genius with it, and that seemed to call for an honest response. Thanks for seeing the subtext.
DeleteI too honed in on that turn of phrase. And on the implicit 'one is the loneliest number' ~
DeleteWhat you have written is magnificent Joy! You have captured a simple moment and given it a bounty of images and so much depth. I too love a poem with crows!!
ReplyDeleteahh but you captured the mythical of crow that Hughes found
ReplyDelete"Two crows make their own zodiac" - they are Geminis of course, doing everything as a pair. Some wonderful visuals here and an ending that leaves the reader pondering
Simply gorgeous Joy … on Jeopardy last evening one of the categories “Poetry” referenced Hughes and the correct response was “Plath.” Which of course we knew.
ReplyDeleteThis is... exquisite. In every way, every line. It feeds us and lets us eat as crows do on words and carrion. "Two crows make their own zodiac, seven stars make Orion" might be one of your best images ever. Not best line, but anchor, center. And then the Hughesian: "makes a pageant in vapor, a blood-let of generosity, / a late arrival at sufficiency" Mothered by crows, indeed.
ReplyDeleteThanks, qbit. Ive been trying to write a little less darkly lately, and with Hughes that can be a challenge. I loved yours.
Delete