Mahakali's Kiss
I'm told it rained on the day she was born,
a January Sunday on streets of snow
that melted away like the life she wore,
like time's black kiss, like a riot of crows.
She makes each thing with a blind innocence
that starts a smolder in a long-dry field
just to leave an ash that cannot rest
til love itself belongs to the dead.
So fill your mouths with her acid, boys,
that seems to taste as sweet as mead.
Fill your arms with her empty husk
whose midnight touch will make you bleed
and when lips rot and skin weeps red
remember her smile and the charm she said
to reap your heart in her willow bed
where she dies of cold as soon as she's fed.
December 2024
Posted for the Word Garden Word List
at Shay's Word Garden
Process notes: Mahakali means 'Great Kali,' and is the honorific title of the Hindu goddess of Time, Death and Liberation, Kali, whose name translates as "she who is black" or "she who is the ruler of time." wikipedia: "Mahakali, in Sanskrit, is etymologically the feminized variant of Mahakala or Great Time (which is interpreted also as Death). Mahakali...serves as the agent who allows the cosmic order to be restored.."
Image: Goddess Mahakali, Delhi Museum via wikipedia Public Domain
Hiya Hedge! Your Mahakali convinces me of the Indo-European ancestry of the Cailleach hag who's been whupping up on my verse of late. It is she who rules Yule, quenching one year breathe life into the next, the near-lifeless crone who drinks from the well at the solstice and slowly becomes milky Brigit of Imbolc. Her son the hero dies horribly this time of year, harvest scythe turned by her necessity on his own neck. Or sumthin. A cold willow bed, for sure, fed with the dead kissed too red. Renewal always comes at a price -- here's to your's, friend, with this icy charm.
ReplyDeleteThanks, B. The cailleach and I go way back.
Delete"...the life she wore like time's black kiss......and "to reap your heart in her willow bed......" What a joy to read you, Hedge. Fantastic writing, as always.
ReplyDeleteWow. Sometimes you start out so easy (albeit with notes of impending grue) and then build up until by the penultimate stanza I'm going yes yes, fantastic and then the final stanza leaves me with an O mouth and sputtering. Kali is a marvelous subject to build your poem around and the rhyme makes it all the sweeter, despite knowing that this will be a voyage down a dark and narrow passageway. Some day, you and I must attempt a haiku about the pretty flowa, but until then, this kick-ass stuff will have to do. Your writing is just food for the poetic soul, Hedge.
ReplyDeletedang. i can just about hear the traveling minstrel singing this tune in a medieval tavern, back to the fireplace (kind of with a Witcher vibe).
ReplyDeletealways good to read you, particularly when your imagery leaps from the page ~
I love the haunting atmosphere and fable-like story telling - very atmospheric- Jae
ReplyDeleteSo many paradoxes lit with the imagery of sweetness and pain, so that it leaves one shivering as if we become what she is, as she is, "where she dies of cold as soon as she's fed." Only one of the qualities of this wonderfully wrought poem, Joy.
ReplyDeleteFirst of all your rhyme is perfection Joy, and your imagery gives the haunting feel even more power. Time certainly is not our friend it seems! I always love how your notes show just how deep and unique your beautiful poetry is my friend!
ReplyDeleteOh how I love this poem!!! It feels dark, tragic, haunting, visceral, close to mythic. Huge WOW from me, Joy. PS we have Tillamook ice cream in our freezer.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Helen...and I envy the ice cream!
DeleteAmazing. Gorgeous flow and rhyme with bold, intense imagery. You are a poet par excellence.
ReplyDeleteIt's mythical, dark, filled with rhyme, and so much more. Beautiful writing
ReplyDelete