good clean sheets,
cotton in a box a gift of jewelry comes in,
and snow when there's no way home?
Two are no good going back to when the shine is gone.
All of them can be thrown, but not far enough to satisfy real anger.
All of them can seem pretty at first, until you see how things really are.
Dearie baby, come out from behind that glass and set your clipboard down.
Shove that pencil up your ass,
And talk to me when your heart stops, frozen, in a drift of things the same or different, a million miles from home.
_________
for One Shot Wednesday
The first two stanzas of this....wow. So original...like a stupefying riddle.
ReplyDeleteYou take the world of order and make it look artificial and unnecessary compared to the beauty and sincerity at the heart of chaos. Not only vividly written language-wise, as is all your work, but kickass in the much the smartness department.
ReplyDeleteSeriously, fine writing, my friend.
Shay, I love this. When the shine is left then you know there is nothing left.
ReplyDeleteRemember that scene in The Shining where Jack is wielding an axe and chasing his son through the hedge maze during a blizzard, and the next morning they find Jack dead in a snow drift, frozen stiff?
ReplyDeleteYeah, well, for whatever reason your poem reminded me of that. Go figure...
you conjure ice in the heat of Summer!
ReplyDeleteAloha from Honolulu :)
Comfort Spiral
><}}(°>
><}}(°>
<°)}}><
a well aimed snowball can be pretty cathartic...
ReplyDeletebut it's summer now.
immaculate castles sparkle plenty...but order whores lack luster.
I loved the writing utensil up the orifice. In fact, I can think of quite a few people who need to put their pencils there.
ReplyDeleteall of them can be thrown but not far enough to satisfy real anger... and what could satisfy real anger and should we satisfy real anger..? loved this shay... smart write
ReplyDelete"and snow, when there's no way home." Wow, Shay, you continue to amaze me with your writing. You never have an off day. Ever. Great writing.
ReplyDeleteYour last two lines are so evocative of being left out in the cold - brilliant.
ReplyDeleteI love that analogy at the beginning of the sheets, cotton and snow.
ReplyDeleteThe edge in the tone really makes this jump out through the read. Great write ~ Rose
ReplyDeleteIs that why they call them #2 pencils?
ReplyDeleteThe metaphors you string on this necklace make for a pretty present on the surface til one realizes the pearls are mercurial and molten to boot, burning all the way down to what matters. Such lycanthropic seduction has the moon for its madonna. It isn't easy to get down the intonation and metrics which cut so straight a swath. Like Mick Jagger sang in "Midnight Rambler," "honey, this ain't no rock 'n' roll show."
ReplyDeleteI totally get that .. 'heart stops, frozen in a drift of things' .. awesome imagery
ReplyDeleteI wish that I could come up with a better word, but this . . . this is smart.
ReplyDeleteI used to have to give IQ tests when I was a school psychologist back in the day. Some of the questions were almost as inscrutable as what you wrote, my favorite being, "What does 'one swallow doesn't make a summer' mean?" I got lots of blank and confused looks from people who had no idea it was even referring to birds. Of course, I always giggled to myself thinking of things more sexual. I'm sure they've updated the test by now, I hope!
ReplyDeleteWhat I admire the most in this piece is the way you handled the tone - great switch up from the philosophical to the bitterly personal. Well done.
ReplyDelete