i wrapped the deep bleed around my hands and swung it.
this is my heart,
a little flag in the wind.
this is what i do when i turn loose the words--
out of my way, motherfuckers.
i know how to make love to the words,
the words i drew out of the sharp edge.
that room?
they loved me.
for twenty minutes,
i lured them inside my oanga bag.
after, they say
damn, girl, damn.
some of them say
do you do a lot of good drugs?
i'm cleaner than a bible salesman's virgin daughter,
but i feel everything seventy times seven.
every woman who ever ran her teeth across my heart
helped me write this shit you see before you now.
baby, i'm not crazy,
nor stoned nor privy to the whispers of the next world--
just
inconsolable.
_______
Isadora Gruye challenged us to share our old standby break-up song, the one we curl up on the floor in the dark with when things go bad. Mine is "Inconsolable" by Jonatha Brooke, here sung by a woman named Lena whose version I like even better than Jonatha Brooke's own. I have riffed on the line "baby I'm not crazy, just inconsolable." Izy wanted us to take it in a new direction. I've tried. If this ain't good enough, girl, kiss my happy ass.
Wow! A bold statement of heartbreak and what it has done...I feel you!
ReplyDeletePoem first, then the tunes.
ReplyDeleteThe poem shines beyond any standard. What I love most about your work is the boldness...how you can wrap it up in a coyness until suddenly you are hit over the head with cold hard physical acts of poetry.
What I am talking about for example: your opening...
i brought the blue up from where it sleeps--
i wrapped the deep bleed around my hands and swung it.
what a fantastic beginning, a strong image and a living wound. Then this:
this is what i do when i turn loose the words--
out of my way, motherfuckers.
The movement from physical swinging to the thought of unleashing the war words blew my mind. I love the back and forth that follows, the narrator's voice is strong. I love the direction you took. Also, I would love this line stitched on a pillow:
i'm cleaner than a bible salesman's virgin daughter,
but i feel everything seventy times seven.
The song choice was gorgeous....I agree this version brings something special to the table. Viva la and thanks for posting to my first challenge!
There just aren't drugs good enough to do this, Shay, so I knew that penultimate stanza was true before I read it. Hard hitting, but not hard, and deepest blue, kind of like the tune.
ReplyDeleteWhat you need are some soft, soft drugs while relaxing on a beach in Maui. That's always a sure cure for what ails ya...
ReplyDeleteThis reminds me of that Matchbox 20 song, "I'm not crazy; I'm just a little unwell."
ReplyDeleteNow, onto the poetry ...
I'm crazy about these lines:
"i brought the blue up from where it sleeps--
i wrapped the deep bleed around my hands"
"i'm cleaner than a bible salesman's virgin daughter,
but i feel everything seventy times seven"
"nor stoned nor privy to the whispers of the next world"
Now I'm off to listen to your song.
Shay, feeling everything seventy times seven can be a blessing or a curse! THAT I know for sure!
ReplyDeleteThis is written so authentically, Shay. I love the direction you've taken this. Emotions captured in such a raw way.
ReplyDeleteGreat song, I'm so glad to have heard it for the first time.
:)
I love Miss Lena Celine. I'm looking up her videos on YouTube as we speak. Thank you. :)
ReplyDeleteI'd never heard this song, so I enjoyed the Youtube video.
ReplyDeleteYour poem, as usual, is exquisite.
Just another reason why I read your poems...I feel the blues in the song and the poem... awesome
ReplyDeleteThe one thing we must guard against when writing a break up poem or song is that we don't come across feeling sorry for ourselves - not easy because if it's authentic we do. I trained myself to feel sorry for the idiot who would let me go, and after reading your words, I want to cheer on your own kickass attitude: your speaker can get through it without any form of analgesic, not because it doesn't hurt but because she is strong enough to rise above. That's the message I got - and the poetry itself is gilded in the glow of brilliance.
ReplyDelete"this is my heart,
ReplyDeletea little flag in the wind."
Ditto, the comments above! And beautifully spare!
It took me to where I still love who I ever loved, and if I pushed that button I would find the reality was/is real.
I am so moved by "this is my heart, a little flag in the wind". Your writing is so deep, Shay, the way pain goes deep, seventy times seven. You have such a gift. It continues to blow me away. Each poem, I am newly in awe.
ReplyDeletelove it, especially the pain of the "deep bleed."
ReplyDeletegood enough? seriously? glad to hear your ass is happy! :)muuuah
ReplyDeleteThis kicks ass over any broken heart poem I ever wrote. I like how you bring everyone who ever dragged their teeth along your heart along for their culpability. Excellent work, my sensitive friend. Love, el Mosk
ReplyDeleteSeventy times seven - wow you just took a hold of this and owned it! So very wrenchingly well done.
ReplyDeleteYour voices echo each other word for word, note for note, emotion for emotion ~ great work Shay.
ReplyDeleteMindblowing, mindbending excellence, my dear Shay. You are an amazing poet.
ReplyDeleteK
I just love this. The seventy times seven line is incredible.
ReplyDelete