Sunday, July 22, 2012

7 Things

My friend Buddah Moskowitz tagged me to tell 7 things. I lub me some Mosky, so this is them.

You asked.
You opened your mouth,
opened the door,
opened the cage, and I leapt out--
whatever I do from here is on you.

7 things about me.
Here's one--
I unfold from sky, from clouds.
I sit, I nod, I'm still,
but all the time, the dark could-be spreads across me from the inside;
lightning shocks my heart,
thunder rolls,
wind knocks me open like a wooden gate that's wild to run.

Here's two--
when I raise my head,
I raise it twice;
one is wicked, one is nice
and neither one listens to any damned old men.
I am the double bloom
on a double stem.
Cut me if you like; I'll grow again.

Here's three-
mother, mother's daughter, and me.
The other is the one she thinks I am,
and we all stare at each other
unblinking, unforgiving,
and as unrelated as bird, ghost, and stone.

Here's four--
four legs to take me all directions at once,
and the screaming you'll hear
from the trees at night
is frustration shaking my human form,
breaking its neck
and carrying it back through hell towards surcease.

Here's five--
root, base, stem, leaf, bloom.
I told you that I would grow again.
Reapers, did you forget?
You, lost on the overgrown path of me?

Here's six--
the six women I have loved.
One of them I love still, and without caution.
All dark,
all damaged,
all with an extra ear that the gods sing into.
This is why they are driven mad by the moon,
and why I have needed to be near them,
like stars.

Here's seven--
There is a storm from which I find no shelter.
There is a will within me that nothing can kill.
There is a name that I've given myself--call me by it or expect no answer.
There is a fire I walk through, not because I love the burning, but because I love the promise that it will end.
I am vines. There is really only a way through for one.
There are pieces of God in every woman. This is why we embody so much beauty, and how we endure so much pain.

There are your seven things.
Destroy the cage.
Close the door again, softly.
Shut your mouth, at last, at last.
Whatever I do from here is on me, like rain on a cat's coat.
She can't find home,
and yet, always, she hurries on.
_____

12 comments:

TexWisGirl said...

and still every bit a mystery to me... :)

Kerry O'Connor said...

How absolutely bloody brilliant!

I was swept up with the beauty of every imaginative bite, you have a way of expressing your own reality which is truly inspiring:

I unfold from sky, from clouds.
I sit, I nod, I'm still...

I am the double bloom
on a double stem.
Cut me if you like; I'll grow again...

Sherry Blue Sky said...

This is absolutely brilliant and wonderful. One of your best, and that's saying something, because your least-loved poem is far beyond what most poets can conjure.

Wow, kiddo. You have written the beautiful truth here.

Sioux said...

I agree with Sherry Blue Sky--this is one of your best, and that IS saying something stupendous.

Jeezle, Fireblossom. When people say they want you to tell 7 things about yourself, they mean things like, "Orange jello is my guilty pleasure," or "I collect cobwebs in my spare time," not the brilliant poem you came up with.

Remind me to NEVER again respond to someone asking something like this. You've raised the bar far too high. ;)

Mama Zen said...

Wait! Wait! One more question: how the hell do you do that?

flipside records said...

"but all the time, the dark could-be spreads across me from the inside" ... Sounds familiar.

This is really cool:
"when I raise my head,
I raise it twice;
one is wicked, one is nice" ... Love this.

"and the screaming you'll hear
from the trees at night
is frustration shaking my human form" ... Neato.

"all with an extra ear that the gods sing into.
This is why they are driven mad by the moon" ... Uh-oh. It's good you're still on six. I got lotsa ears, anat moon do make me crazy.

HermanTurnip said...

Why do I feel like I'm Bilbo engaged in a war with wits with Smeagol? Heh...

Buddah Moskowitz said...

What I meant was: what's your favorite color and if you could be an animal which one would you want to be. As usual, inspiration and the fire in your soul took this to a place I could not have imagined and now having read it, could not imagine any other response from such an untamed and true soul.

I love you from the core of your soul out in every direction.

Your grateful pal, Mosk

Daryl Edelstein said...

major applause and cheering .. this is so uniquely you!

Kay L. Davies said...

Seven things, indeed.
This is magnificent, Shay. Seven times seven times seven times fantabulous.
K

Lydia said...

Well. This made me cry. Because it is an exquisite and brilliant poem, so brilliant that I trick myself into believing that it is still out there in the ether——waiting to be written. But, no, here it is. And here you are. Lucky us.

myheartslovesongs said...

this is the most amazing thing you've ever written, and that is saying one hell of a lot!

mesmerizing, enchanting, bewitching, exquisite, uniquely YOU!

i grovel at your feet, oh Goddess of Poetry and all words!