Tuesday, February 24, 2015

Crop Duster

She fell out of the crop dusting plane--
chemicals may, in fact, have had something to do with it.
She was certainly high.
She may have been lit.

She threw herself, a bouquet, at the world.
Here comes a blossom,
a real live flesh and blood

There were no stairs.
Had there been, she could have done her best deb walk,
descending photogenically
from blue
to bloom
and from sky
to stalk.

Okay, so it was me, on my way down from wing-walking of an afternoon.
I thought I saw you below me, among the vines,
eating a tomato and reading Whitman.
It could have been you.
It could have been chemistry
or kismet
or my eyes playing tricks.

Anyway, every time I breathe,
my blood turns from moody jay to calling cardinal.
That is why I had to come and kiss you, honey,
even if I had to fall.


TexWisGirl said...

another fine spin of imagery.

Susie Clevenger said...

Love it! Crop Duster, certainly no hint it was a love poem. :)

Rene Foran said...

Love this spunky, frisky gal

Jazzbumpa said...

chemistry for sure
monsanto those bastards
and now the stalks are wilted
with round up

is that tomato gmo
are you ready for the harvest

and where are you honey
now that all the bees are dead


you gave me a kick in the
cerebral cortex
and that spilled out


Kenn Merchant said...

I have Walt Whitman's "Leaves of Grass" and I have to say it is one of his most questionable works that he has ever created. Although I love the ties he makes between nature and himself. Your poem was lovely Shay!

Susan said...

Love this: "She threw herself, a bouquet, at the world." Despite the beauty of the wedding-like image, maybe next time she could be inspired to ascend.

Margaret said...

"my blood turns from moody jay to calling cardinal.
That is why I had to come and kiss you, honey,"

You know, don't under-rate the little songbirds - sometimes they are a bit more charming :)

…maybe she will be willing to break the fall then as the flash of beauty isn't always the most important.

hedgewitch said...

There is a grace to this fall, and a warmth to the landing, that only your pen could birth, Shay.

Suburban Spinach said...

This is one of my favorites of your poems. I will read this several more times and then leave a proper comment.

Kerry O'Connor said...

Such an imaginative piece, with a profound declaration of love.

Mama Zen said...

I simply love this.

Sherry Blue Sky said...

I loved the blood turning from moody jay to calling cardinal. Love the entire progression of this poem, and the two closing stanzas are deeply satisfying to read....so loving.

Björn Rudberg said...

If the stair separate there should be nothing stopping :-) Wonderful way to declare love.

Suburban Spinach said...

What a way to describe having fallen hard for someone. I love the line, "She may have been lit," because it makes me think of her (you, as it were) actually being the essence of literature itself. (I doubt chemicals were truly involved, other than natural ones ... the high of falling in love.)

I adore Stanza 2. By letting "girl" hang on its own line, you cleverly emphasized that she was only a girl, rather than a woman, when this happened. Or maybe she just felt like a young girl.

I really love this line/image: "She threw herself, a bouquet, at the world," suggesting that the woman who catches it/her will be the next to marry (her).

"There were no stairs." I see a bit of homophone play in "stairs/stares." I think when you jumped, no one was watching. If they had been, maybe you would have made a skillful show out of it all. The same applies to the heteronym "stalk" at the end. I think you're also saying that loving this woman has brought out a bit of the stalker in you. And "blue" too. I think you're referring to being sad, and this girl taking you out of your depression/funk and bringing out the best and brightest in you.

I love the sound of this word pairing: "descending photogenically." Gorgeous.

"Okay, so it was me" ... Love the confession here. That line is likely my favorite of the poem. Well, that whole stanza, actually.

"among the vines,
eating a tomato and reading Whitman" ... What a gorgeous place to discover someone. It's quiet, secret, poetic. She's just enjoying some alone time, some peace and quiet. And here you come, catapulting yourself out of the sky. :)

"It could have been you." What does this mean? Are you not even sure? Maybe you're only seeing part of her, or a ghost of her. She must fade in and out of existence. She's someone you never can quite grasp or possess.

"It could have been chemistry" ... I like the way you refer back to chemistry in the opening.

"Anyway, every time I breathe,
my blood turns" ... Okay, so here you refer back to blood toward the beginning, I think. A flesh and blood girl. Not just a flower. Not just something to look at. You're reminding her that you are real and she, perhaps, is not. You are flesh; she isn't always. Or maybe she never is.

"That is why I had to come and kiss you, honey,
even if I had to fall." ... Okay, now here's what I'm thinking. The fall is from heaven to hell. Or maybe just from earth to hell, metaphorically speaking. Loving her has sent you into a sort of purgatory that is both pain and bliss at the same time. You wouldn't trade it, but you do suffer deeply. This makes me think of Persephone and Hades.

I think you're playing with words when you refer to a cardinal. I think you're saying you're a Catholic bishop (figuratively speaking) who has come a callin' ... to kiss this mystical girl of the underworld. To be with her, you had to fall from grace.

How'd I do?

Helen said...

.. I'm gonna simply say I love it!

Rosemary Nissen-Wade said...

I'm gonna simply echo Helen.

Suburban Spinach said...

The magic trick hinted at in the image was a nice touch, pulling a rabbit out of your hat.

Sara said...

The comments are great on this one. I loved reading Suburban Spinach and then Helen's and Rosemary Nissen-Wade's comments after it. LOL.

I was going to add my favorite verse(#2) and tell you exactly why I loved it, but this is too much fun.

I'm going to parrot Helen and Rosemary!!

p.s. I will add this, this poem one is one my favorites:~)

Justin Lamb said...

Regardless of what I think the meaning of this poem is, I really enjoy the way the words flow together. It was fun to read.

my heart's love songs said...

"on my way down from wing-walking of an afternoon"

what better way to spend an idle afternoon? though the falling bit would've been a drag.