Tuesday, January 19, 2016


I am not the girl for you.
Mornings and evenings, 
I am lost in the roil and flock of myself.

Here is the hungry
coming out from me,
motion by slim margins denied.

I'm all sharp looks,
resenting restraint,
ready to die
if by dying I rise.

Do you think
you're the sky?
You look to me like a stick on strings,
a store-bought bell.

I weigh 
amount to

like love, or thermals.
But instinct drives me,
driven spiral-mad to know

That the rodent heartbeat of my inborn ambition
is out there,
stirring the leaves,
heading for its hole,

While I strain and scream,
knowing I can never spot it 
from here.


Sherry Blue Sky said...

WOW! The fierceness, the rodent heading for its hole, the power of your words - fantastic!

Susan said...

"I'm all sharp looks,
resenting restraint"

I have never understood the need to cage or leash a bird. Though, having been once a potential target for a turkey buzzard, I pity the rodent's place in the food chain.

De said...

This is quite simply STUNNING, Shay. I am at a loss for words to express how much I identify with this.

Kerry O'Connor said...

I do love your bird-girl poetry, Shay!

brudberg said...

I feel like a field-mouse now... I think a leash would be unwise.

hedgewitch said...

'Lost in the roil and flock'--what a phrase--simply exceptional work with the metaphor here, consistent through every line, and every image one of a kind yet primal and instantly recognizable, like pain or fire. The third and fourth stanzas just stopped me in my tracks--deep breath--feel the chill of looking at something you only want to look away from. Just stellar writing, Shay.

Marian said...

"I'm all sharp looks." What a line.

Stacy Lynn Mar said...

stunning write, as usual!

haven't been by for a while. your work just gets better with time.

thanks for sharing. :)

Sioux said...

As a writer, you're such a chameleon. Your tone, your word choice, the rhythm... you take on whatever subject you're writing about.

I can't fathom how you do it.

Shadow said...

There's so much spirit and intensity in here, outstanding!

Shadow said...

Oh, and the bird got me too..... Always been drawn to them. Had an owl living in our tree once, my totem, and then of course I have the 'miniature' version, an African grey parrot.... But your guy is a hunter!

Susie Clevenger said...

Love your bird's eye poetry. :) rodent heartbeat of my inborn ambition...Great line!

Brendan MacOdrum said...

Discernment of spirits is one of the gifts of baptism by firewater. Here is a native Ameican myth that molts into a fable of love that raptors screaming to the heart of the heart of the heart of poetry: now that is Ambition. Some poems unlock themselves from reading the title and proceeding, others wait for us to go back and read the title to understand. Yours nailed the latter after descending a burning ladder. Amen.

Outlawyer said...

Hey Shay--the whole poem very vivid and gripping, but last two stanzas particularly compelling I thought--very palpable and original--thanks. k.

Mama Zen said...

ready to die
if by dying I rise

Wow. Lots of really cool wording in this. I like it a lot.

Sixpence and A Blue Moon said...

This is stunning,...pulsating.
I've written quite a lot of poetry, just not brave enough to put it out there.

Thank you for stopping by my blog.

I am happy to find yours. I will be back from time to time.


Buddah Moskowitz said...

Fun to read, but hardly autobiographical. No, I imagine you're the Happy Homemaker type, in pearls and apron. Still, you can write circles around most everyone I see. la la mosk

Lynn said...

"... I can never spot it from here." Love that.

Joanna Jenkins said...

Hear. You. Roar!!!
Loved this, Shay.
Happy, happy New Year!
xo jj

Ileana said...

Be passionate and unapologetic for all you are...love this!

grapeling said...

the 4th stanza, especially, for me... ~