Thursday, June 6, 2013

By An Idiot

Stitched into this skin
by an idiot seamstress,
under pinched stars
and brassy Moon,

I turn in the heatless hands
of a confabulating breeze.
It lies me into dreams of a harbor in the hyena's mouth,
where I float, for one sweet moment, 

Unruined, in the darkness of impossible grace. 

15 comments:

Akila G said...

The end is quite a twist and it reflects on the previous para so well.

Lynn said...

Wow!

Sherry Blue Sky said...

Yes, wow! That was my reaction to. Even in few lines, you come up with images no one would ever think of that are just totally amazing.

Margaret said...

I love it all... but a hyena? I swore you were going to say a tiger!

Kay L. Davies said...

I agree, the hyena was a surprise, but over all the poem carries that style and grace which is uniquely yours, Shay.
K

hedgewitch said...

You don't often do works this short, but when one happens, I always get a shiver, because they are a true gift of the poetic imagination, the spirit and soul. I am amazed, always at how well and simply you can say the most difficult and complex things. Nocturne indeed--this is reverberant with night.

Hannah said...

Love the opening...the idea of being stitched... Excellent.

illumine essence said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Fireblossom said...

Note to those who asked about the hyena: a hyena, because of the mocking laugh.

Susie Clevenger said...

Fireblossom, this is beautiful and the minute I saw the word hyena I heard the laugh. :)

HermanTurnip said...

I got excited there for a moment. I saw the title and thought you had dedicated a poem to me. Heh..

But reading your poem I found it quite complicated for a short piece. Had to read it a few times to let it soak in, enjoying it more and more with each reading!

Mama Zen said...

Perfect.

Kerry O'Connor said...

Wow! I love the harbour of the hyena's mouth.

Maggie Grace said...

Definitely stunning and unexpected use of imagery. Wow.

Isadora Gruye said...

I really enjoyed the layers of imagery you invoke here. Much like Hedgey, you really nailed Kerry's request for lyrical language. I found the idiot seamstress, the pinched stars, and the hyena mouth harbor intriguing and abstract enough not to inundate the reader.

In my readings, I am picking up on an increasing abstraction. THe first stanza is a bit more concrete: moon stars, skin. The second builds in complexity (even the words are a little more difficult, ie confabulating) which flows straight into the last line, which is a bit of riddle of meaning. The effect on me as a read is like experiencing a dream while wide awake. What a ride!
Well done and viva la