Browning
The
earth is wrapped in burning
brown
abeyance, jerking fretful
in hot
flash cold St Vitus' dance,
teeth on
edge, rhythm shot,
the
colossus god thief
beside his golden foundry,
abandoned
like a warped wheel
murdered by its own machine,
reduced to a clockwork locket
on a cowskulled desert trek.
on a cowskulled desert trek.
We are
the thing
that uncocks
the flower gun,
knifemelts
the mother to bleed
a drowning of ice-water tides.
We are numberless now,
We are numberless now,
a
dirtstorm of demand
pressing
our heaviness on a mouth
that
would be willing
if it could only breathe.
~March
2013
© Black Wildflowers blog 2013
All rights reserved.
11 comments:
in hot flash cold St Vitus' dance,
teeth on edge, rhythm shot,....nice...and love that we are the thing that uncocks the flower gun...dang...what a feel comes across in that last stanza too...very nice
pressing our heaviness on a mouth
that would be willing
if it could only breathe...oh heck...that made me swallow...uncocking the flower gun and knifemelting the mother to bleed are tight images too
Oh dear. This one moving me to tears, actually. Poor earth. It really pains me to read - I cannot follow through all the threads at this moment, but a few things I found very effective - first--browning such a rich word - I jump of course to the firearms - but then there's just the browning as opposed to the greening and that's strong enough - though h=you have the shot and flower gun and one cannot help but connect the browning weapon with the browning of the planet.
The rhythm shot so strong as we have shot all the natural circadian and other motion of things - St. Vitus Dance - agh--
the pea and the clockwork locket and cowskull trek - all a kind of a new dust storm but what really got me is this knifemelt - the ice water tides and--agh - the melting of all those ice caps - (I'm sentimental enough to think of polar bears -- I'm just throwing that in because I feel sorry for them - not because you mention) - and the last stanza is so strong. The dirtstorm of demand is a super strong phrase, and the close. Only it makes me so terribly sad. I suppose I won't be around to see it - but not much relief in that, is there? (And maybe it will come too soon.) And maybe I've misread everything--Wonderful poetry. k.
Wonderful but sad.. and the picture goes so well with the poem
Wow... powerful, vivid images... the third and fourth stanzas really struck me.
The imagery and word play here is outstanding ~
This stanza kicks it for me:
We are the thing
that uncocks the flower gun,
knifemelts the mother to bleed
a drowning of ice-water tides.
Very impressed with your work ~
Very powerful and that last stanza is hauntingly sad...terrifying really. The earth unable to breathe, such a sad state of affairs brilliant work!
That last stanza had be gasping for breath - very powerful imagery.
And this, we will continue to do.
Powerful powerful words.
Anna :o]
Came back in a slightly less manic mode - the collusus god thief is so interesting to me - I really am very ignorant -so I think of Atlas and Heracles and all of that kind of theft - the golden apples - do not think that is what you meant at all, but there are these wonderful built-in resonances that the mind makes even when we do not know it - and I meant to say before, that I love the wheel attacked by its own machine and reduced to locket. I hate to say it but it reminds me of how we save the DNA of species - I know you didn't necessarily mean it that way, but the locket has the whole idea of keepsake - not trivial but not functional either - anyway, still liking poem - sorry not to be more coherent. k.
Sad scenario indeed...well written and I like the term
"thief" here.
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