like ice jammed into an envelope,
mailed sharp to the heart of your flabby complacency.
Oh, I'm sorry, dear.
I know how you hate talk of the slaughter
which necessarily precedes your roast of beef on its platter.
Still,
something just hit the window
hard enough to dent the lead and crack the old glass.
Rev'rend on his black horse rode,
passage marked with one red rose;
He found Esther, Esther cried,
one red rose by the waterside.
Get out of bed.
It's time we talked.
Don't you find me appealing anymore, with red in my hair?
The ostler had a fine shovel,
and my last thought was of nothing in particular.
Now learn, at my insistence, the value of doing a job yourself.
You look gray,
as if all your blood had turned to smoke.
Listen to you sputtering, ridiculous, invoking your cotton-eared god.
Rev'rend on your errand rode.
Esther cried and Esther chose.
Gospel came surprisingly
in bloom and thorn blood-picked by me.
_______
for grapeling's word list at Real Toads. I used "smoke", "winter" and "slaughter".
I really enjoyed this poem, Shay. There's a kind of galloping rhythm to your chorus verses and your characters are clearly depicted.
ReplyDeleteI LOVE "like ice jammed into an envelope" and the discomfort of acknowledging "the slaughter that precedes your roast of beef on its platter". (good one.) The rhythm of this piece lends itself well to the tale.
ReplyDeleteThis makes me feel as if someone dead were indeed talking(as per your title) in that disjointed way, separate and disparate images, memories rather surreal and distorted, non-sequitur statements and little not-so-nonsensical rhymes. Truly spooky, and truly well-written, Shay.
ReplyDelete"you look grey / as if all your blood had turned to smoke"
ReplyDeletedamn, what a great line. this one feels like it was written by someone on the other side. thanks for adding your voice, Shay ~
so much to find in the crackling flames of your creativity
ReplyDeleteALOHA from Honolulu
ComfortSpiral
=^..^=
OwWOOOOO! Together with the Sinead O, this is an unforgettable experience. The victim returns forever, I am certain of it, and your lines make me feel that I hear Esther herself speak from beyond the grave while watching the Reverend dear "...invoking your cotton-eared god."
ReplyDeleteFrom the other side, you get to finally say what you want. That lovely photo and quote gone awry.
ReplyDeleteI want to claim that second stanza as mine. Outstanding.
ReplyDeleteYou look grey ?
ReplyDeleteYou need a glasses...tee..heh..I
Just be silly
;)
xox
Very cool, FB!
ReplyDeleteI loved "You look gray,
ReplyDeleteas if all your blood had turned to smoke." LOL That's a good line.
Not that you won't have an even better one, but this poem is spooky enough for me to wish you a very hauntingly happy Halloween.
p.s. And Skittles too:~)
was the "ostler" verse a reference to horse shit? (yes, i had to google ostler so i'm damn well gonna mention it in my comment, even if it doesn't make any sense.)
ReplyDeletei'm gonna go to Coal's to catch up, but then i'm going to tear up every piece of paper in my house; throw away every pen and pencil; unplug my laptop and remove its battery (it cost too much to destroy it) and then delete my blog.
oh, wait... i guess i need to delete my blog before i unplug my laptop. i'll figure it out.
♥
Like someone the world discarded speaking out from a once-overgrown grave, now bared to the world. Beautiful.
ReplyDelete