Wednesday, May 11, 2011

Lioness In The Grass



I have searched for my skin,

And for my face,

Every place the sun reaches or does not.



I have heard myself in the scrape of boots on stairs, leading up;

I have called myself from the shadows of corners,

Found traces in the pages of old books,

And seen myself in the round faces of raindrops on a nine-paned window.



I have refused faces handed me,

And have slipped out of skin that did not fit.

I have kissed women on the mouth and known they felt the ghost inside;

I have kissed different women, in the later afternoon, and known it to be exactly right,

Fitting like a cup and saucer,

Lovely,

Warm,

Full.



We begin wherever we find ourselves,

Like closed-eye cubs born to the lioness in the grass.

We are like the iris, purple and blue,

Recurring, beautiful, temporary.



I am not who I was.

I am a blue-eyed huntress balanced between bounty and starvation.

I bloom, though I know the sun will sink

And the unstoppable winter crouches just beyond the boundary of my heart beat.

_________

for One Shot Wednesday

the photograph of the irises is taken by and property of Hedgewitch

__________

32 comments:

hedgewitch said...

Just beautiful Shay. The nine-paned window, the kissing in the afternoon, the play of skins, the shedding of masks, and the living breathing animal self stirring and refusing to be denied. Love the poem, and very flattered you used my iris pic. Even the variety name ("Dangerous Liaisons') seems to belong here.

Suz said...

just a lovely lush poem

Daryl said...

''And the unstoppable winter crouches just beyond the boundary of my heart beat.''

I feel that so deeply.

G-Man said...

Shay...
I loved the passion of this poem!
I've kissed women in the late afternoon, and thank GOD for Tic-Tacs.
You are simply...Terrific!

Mystic Margarita said...

"I am a blue-eyed huntress balanced between bounty and starvation." Wow! Beautiful imagery about the transience of nature. Loved it.

Poets United said...

Excellent flow Fireblossom; you are such a smooth writer.

ellen abbott said...

haunting, beautiful.

Sherry Blue Sky said...

Oh my Goddess, this time you have outdone even yourself! This is simply GLORIOUS. "Like closed-eye cubs born to the lioness in the grass"....."a blue-eyed huntress balanced between bounty and salvation." Absolutely brilliant writing. Out of the ball park. Whew! Loved every glimmering shining spectacular word.

Brian Miller said...

shay is is beautiful..dont settle for the skins of others...the last 3-4 lines were my fav...starting with i am not who i was...from there a lot of truth flows...

Mama Zen said...

". . . and known they felt the ghost inside."

Simply beautiful, Shay.

Lolamouse said...

Again I am amazed and in awe of your words. "We begin wherever we find ourselves." Seems so simple and yet it says so much and is so profound. How many lives have you lived?

Lynn said...

That's beautiful, Shay.

Helen said...

Poets United used the word 'smooth' to describe your style ~ I second that. Smooth, that word just rolls off the tongue, doesn't it?

dustus said...

A beautiful poem. I especially like the break from first person that occurs toward the end before switching back.

Claudia said...

this is beautiful..and sometimes strange that we find traces and bits of ourselves in the most unexpected moments and things..really beautiful

Leslie said...

"I bloom, though I know the sun will sink

And the unstoppable winter crouches just beyond the boundary of my heart beat."

i hope that the crouching winter always gives way to the hope of everlasting spring...

Marinela Reka said...

Lovely write!
Beautiful blog!

Short Poems

ayala said...

Shay, this is beautiful ...love it..." and known they felt the ghost inside" ....

Raven said...

Astounding! The last 2 stanzas touched my heart. Such a stunning poem.

Beachanny said...

The lioness who lives in us, the iris symbol that seems as large as France and just as sexy; it's all here in your inimitable voice and style. Loved it. Gay

blueoran said...

Metamorphosis so plush and feral here. How could it be otherwise, as the years strip away old wineskins? There was Lorca and then the woman's voice inside Lorca. Truthfully, though, this doggie is keeping to the other side of the street. Nice kitty. Stay. :) -- Brendan

Susannah said...

Oooh, wow!!! I adored this! :-) Just beautiful, beautiful, beautiful!

Carrie Burtt said...

Shay....your passion always flows from your words in such a unique and amazing way....you could write one hundred books with one hundred pages each and I would have to read every page...every line....and every word!!! :-)

Lisa Ricard Claro said...

Beautiful. Your word combinations are wonderful, imagery lush and compelling. You made me nod and agree and FEEL. Great poem.

Sioux said...

I loved the last lines the best, especially the last image of winter crouching beyond the boundary of your heartbeat.

Give this spirit the night off. They earned a break!

faye said...

Very nice... smooth and resounding all at once.

HermanTurnip said...

I can picture the spindly huntress tracking down her prey, one hand holding a spear, the other holding her spirit. Great poem!

Timoteo said...

Well, I'm a fan now.

LL Cool Joe said...

Thank you so much for your kind words on my blog. They mean a great deal to me. You are so right when you said " It is part of who you are but doesn't define you, in my view. You are just Joey!"

Thanks. :)

Sara said...

Shay,

To me this is such an empowering poem. I think it's about finding ourselves, even in as we grow older. I loved the lines,

"I have refused faces handed to me,
And have slipped out of skin that did not fit..."

I believe part of our life journey is to know how to begin when we do find ourselves:~)

I loved reading this poem. It made me smile.

Carrie Burtt said...

....the photo i have at the header of my blog i got on google images under spring photography....
...hope you have a wonderful weekend Shay! :-)

Sara said...

Shay,

YEAH. You're back. I loved this poem. To me, it was saying that it doesn't matter when we find out who we really are; it's that we DO.

I loved these lines,
"I have refused faces handed to me,
And slipped out of skin that did not fit..."

I'm so pleased Blogger is back.