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
nothing,
amount to
nothing,
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.
______
WOW! The fierceness, the rodent heading for its hole, the power of your words - fantastic!
ReplyDelete"I'm all sharp looks,
ReplyDeleteresenting 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.
This is quite simply STUNNING, Shay. I am at a loss for words to express how much I identify with this.
ReplyDeleteI do love your bird-girl poetry, Shay!
ReplyDeleteI feel like a field-mouse now... I think a leash would be unwise.
ReplyDelete'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.
ReplyDelete"I'm all sharp looks." What a line.
ReplyDeletestunning write, as usual!
ReplyDeletehaven't been by for a while. your work just gets better with time.
thanks for sharing. :)
As a writer, you're such a chameleon. Your tone, your word choice, the rhythm... you take on whatever subject you're writing about.
ReplyDeleteI can't fathom how you do it.
There's so much spirit and intensity in here, outstanding!
ReplyDeleteOh, 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!
ReplyDeleteLove your bird's eye poetry. :) rodent heartbeat of my inborn ambition...Great line!
ReplyDeleteDiscernment 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.
ReplyDeleteHey Shay--the whole poem very vivid and gripping, but last two stanzas particularly compelling I thought--very palpable and original--thanks. k.
ReplyDeleteready to die
ReplyDeleteif by dying I rise
Wow. Lots of really cool wording in this. I like it a lot.
This is stunning,...pulsating.
ReplyDeleteI'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.
xoxo
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
ReplyDelete"... I can never spot it from here." Love that.
ReplyDeleteHear. You. Roar!!!
ReplyDeleteLoved this, Shay.
Happy, happy New Year!
xo jj
Be passionate and unapologetic for all you are...love this!
ReplyDeletethe 4th stanza, especially, for me... ~
ReplyDelete