Reanimated Lavender Granola Switchblade Nun rides again.

Saturday, May 17, 2014

From A Jar

From a jar
I came,
invented.

I sit demurely
on a table
between beakers.

See my delicate wrists,
my breasts,
my smile.

From his visions,
my conjuror
drew me.

Into many more
of his making,
he imagines me.

For now I will bide,
breathe,
smile.

He imagines that I am pleased.

12 comments:

  1. From the jar, you should not leave without doggie biscuit !
    I'm pretty sure Bosco will love to have some ;)
    xoxo

    Ps : thanks for always be a great friend

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  2. I like the cadence in this Shay. The tercets are tight, yet they lead the mind on expansively with their rhythm and the way the words fall. This is one i would loan you my 'dances with mad scientists' tag for.I especially like the fourth and fifth stanzas, which bring the grue, and the 'for now...'

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  3. Who cares if "he" is pleased, we are pleased...by this poem. So Shay-like. xo

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  4. Why do I have the sense that soon he will be in the jar, before he knows what's hit him? hee hee.

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  5. This says a whole lot about the type of person who tries to reinvent the woman in his life to suit his own purposes- invariably this ends in disaster.

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  6. Ah, to be in the midst of your creator, but yearning to be truly free. Hauntingly beautiful in its simplicity!

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  7. I, too, get the eery feeling that the creator is soon going to be deconstructed!

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  8. 'for now i will bide' ... uh hah .. yup .. for now ... love it

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  9. Yikes--I sense either breaking glass or cut veins. k.

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  10. Be careful of whom you create
    You might become who she ate:~)

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Spirit, what do you wish to tell us?