Reanimated Lavender Granola Switchblade Nun rides again.

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:

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

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  2. 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.

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

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

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  5. 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.

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

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

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

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  10. 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!

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

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  12. Definitely stunning and unexpected use of imagery. Wow.

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  13. 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

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Spirit, what do you wish to tell us?