Showing posts with label triptych. Show all posts
Showing posts with label triptych. Show all posts

Thursday, March 29, 2018

Sweetener


Sweetener


I.

I put you in my tea
tannic with memories;
stirred, they go down smoother
sipping on your ways.
Put on my plate you make
an evergreen presentation,
dressed in rue and fired clay,
so haute cuisine, salad of baby greens
tossed in hope and fear, before
the soup of dreams.

II.
I put you on the moon
sitting where she bends
your cloven feet a-dangle in 
their blurred and slippery stars.
You ease Orion’s belt, give cloudy listening blinks;
I whisper in your thunder covered ear until
you put me in the storm
flying with wings of rain 
where cold front meets the warm.

III.

I put you in my heart
little shop of horrors
cobweb seeded, only one
flyblown object on display but not
for sale. Pressed against the glass
your firefly face winks in the indigo night
where ribboned time slips tight in a lover's knot
and tea is sweet as your blue sky mouth my love, 
sweeter than floating memories dead in the pot.









March 2012
an old favorite, in Kerry's triptych form, 
 reposted for 
Fireblossom's Poetic Imagery 










Image: Tea Time, © Ellen Wilson of Ella's Edge

Wednesday, March 26, 2014

The Rocks, The Snake and The Wheel






The Rocks, The Snake And The Wheel
a Jungian Triptych

I.

These rocks are a tension
between earth and sky,
thrown abrupt against
unconscious blue,
an impulse of fire
cooled in the plunge of time.

They spoke a wheel hooped thru
a linked-inkling labyrinth
where bodies are boundaries
of what survives,
a collective of cells primitive as flint,
frail as the ash of last night's fire.

The rocks are mounded as flesh
on a woman's rib, precise as
arrows piercing the deflected sky,
a bow that grows from its string.


First we make a name,
then a story,
then a soul.






II.

Under the spinning
the flight featherless
the long glide down
from the first tree
the dreamt garden
oscillating the golden
penumbra of perception
where Snake found his tongue,
where the fruit grew sweeter
the longer it hung,

something made him wake
to hate the two that were one,
whole and disguised in the body of light,
singing ragged aubades to the forgetting sun.
Something made the snake

bring the black limit, 
the evasion of night
the cryptic jump, 
Desire the fetish,
obsession for Knowing
as if it weren't right.

So the rock split to center, 
one became two  forever.
Go dancer, celebrant,  vessel,
come mender,
scrubwoman, shuffler 
of cards,

losing the shape
and even the name
 in sweat, blood and pain.


III.

Snake's  in the tree,
you can hear him whistle
his whole lithe length in control,
swinging out darkness,
his bite bringing dreams.

There's a dry stiff scale
shed at the crossroads,
a  fang cast like a horseshoe,
its half-circle hollow
for the poison to follow.
There's a trail in the dustworks
of a rabbit-poor summer, a lion
in shadow, a witch in the woods.

There's a snake in the matrix.
You can hear him sighing
where the fruit hangs low
its faint scent a pulse
in the wind at the threshold
of all that will come:

a woman screaming, a baby crying
a man dangling forever
slaved to the wheel.





~March 2014





posted for      real toads
Challenge: Get Listed: Mind and Symbol
I have the fun of hosting this word list challenge today, based on words drawn from the first chapter of Man and His Symbols, by C.G. Jung. For full details and all the words, check out the link above to real toads. I have made use of a form introduced to us by Kerry O'Connor called the triptych, which emulates the concept of a triptych in the visual arts, a three-panel painting where each panel forms one third of the picture, exploring different views or details of the same subject.








Top Image: Red Hills, Lake George, by Georgia O'Keefe
May be protected by copyright. Posted under fair use guidelines.
Center Image: The Snake Charmer, 1907, by Henri Rousseau, Public Domain
Footer Image: Adam and Eve, 1533, by Lucas Crannoch The Elder,Public Domain 
All via wikipaintings.org








Wednesday, March 7, 2012

Sweetener

Sweetener


I.

I put you in my tea
tannic with memories;
stirred, they go down smoother
sipping on your ways.
Put on my plate you make
an evergreen presentation,
dressed in rue and fired clay,
so haute cuisine, salad of baby greens
tossed in hope and fear, before
the soup of dreams.

II.
I put you on the moon
sitting where she bends
your cloven feet a-dangle in 
their blurred and slippery stars.
You ease Orion’s belt, give cloudy listening blinks;
I whisper in your thunder covered ear until
you put me in the storm
flying with wings of rain 
where cold front meets the warm.

III.

I put you in my heart
little shop of horrors
cobweb seeded, only one
flyblown object on display but not
for sale. Pressed against the glass
your firefly face winks in the indigo night
where ribboned time slips tight in a lover's knot
and tea is sweet as your blue sky mouth my love, 
sweeter than floating memories dead in the pot.



March 2012

Posted for    real toads
Kerry's Wednesday Challenge, always original, and always really a challenge, was to write a poem in three distinct but united parts, reflecting the concept of a triptych in the visual arts.





Image: Tea Time, by Ellen Wilson of Ella's Edge
Borrowed from Real Toads Sunday Challenge with Ellen Wilson