Sunday, January 22, 2017

Pythia

"If thy right eye offend thee, pluck it out, and cast it from thee; for it is profitable for thee that one of thy members should perish, and not that thy whole body should be cast into hell." --Matthew 5:29

"The best deal is the one that makes the most profit." --Ferengi Rules of Acquisition, Rule #2.


I have been making some changes; scaling back.
Behold my lovers, who brought me poems in baskets and cages,
with locks and without, with good intentions and without. 
Here they are,
male and female,
two by two,
plucked before the flood.

They are white and hollow, and have nothing to say.
I shake them; they grin and nod, just as they did in life, but the best thing is
that they now lack any flesh, and cannot shit me like before,
cannot use curve and skin to make me stupid
and set me to my writing like a trained seal clapping.

Nonetheless, the itch remains, a wind in my ear,
a crawly under the pillow case, the world's most beautiful bubo blooming 
in places where the poems are kept.
Listen, they say, listen to us....

I have been making some changes, scaling back.
Mama croc is dead, my lovers rolled away like an aftershock,
and I've never been happier, but the vapors find their way up
through cracks in the foundation.
It's God, isn't it, mightier than the utility company,
whispering, instructing, handing me the Golden Wisdom which I spout,
serene as a vegetable,

no idea what I'm saying, 
but free to say it and unencumbered by wondering what you'll think.
_____

for Brendan's "Voices" challenge at Real Toads.

 

14 comments:

Sioux said...

"They are white and hollow, and have nothing to say.
I shake them; they grin and nod, just as they did in life, but the best thing is
that they now lack any flesh, and cannot shit me like before,
cannot use curve and skin to make me stupid
and set me to my writing like a trained seal clapping."

Shay--this stanza made me think of someone white (or rather orange) and hollow who had quite a day on Friday. I love Sam Cooke's song, but I wasn't hoping for THIS change...

hedgewitch said...

There's a great freedom that comes with loss, but the crawlies remain. An exquisite poem, Shay, that echoes in the empty spaces love once filled with its adorable diamond-coated excrement. I love every line. My voices are so dim I can barely hear them any more--this human document written in gall and blood leaves us to wonder whether that is the worst or best thing of all.

Sherry Blue Sky said...

I resonate with the peacefulness that comes when one has given us all the angst.......and also with the vapors coming up through the floorboards. A great write. Loved it.

blueoran said...

Surely the last sibyl was exhilirated to find all the priests of Delphi splitsville, not to mentioned the goosing invective of Apollo: Down from the mountain, things are quieter, smaller, as you say, scaled back. Maybe now we'll the earth the f**ck alone. Thanks for joining in the challenge; everything shines here with a human light.

brudberg said...

I wonder if the purpose of an Oracle is not really what is said but what it means when listened to... But the great empires will crumble anyway if the river is crossed.

Kerry O'Connor said...

no idea what I'm saying,
but free to say it and unencumbered by wondering what you'll think.

I am captured by the serendipity of this line because it is exactly what I thought when I wrote my own poem this morning.. These voices of ours must be friends.

:)

Cloudia said...

deserves deeps digestion and gestation...

grapeling said...

perfect musical accompaniment, too ~

Sara McNulty said...

'Mama croc is dead, my lovers rolled away like an aftershock,
and I've never been happier, but the vapors find their way up
through cracks in the foundation.'

Outstanding metaphors in this excellent poem.

Other Mary said...

I agree with Sarah, I never met-a-phor I didn't like (or a pun) but yours are especially grand.

Sanaa Rizvi said...

My goodness, this is absolutely incredibly penned, Shay!💜 Especially love "Nonetheless, the itch remains, a wind in my ear, a crawly under the pillow case, the world's most beautiful bubo blooming in places where the poems are kept. Listen, they say, listen to us.." sigh...💜

Helen said...

~ no idea what I'm saying, but free to say it and unencumbered by wondering what you'll think. Takes a ton of effort to arrive at this place ~ thank you for writing it.

Mama Zen said...

Just standing and applauding.

Shadow said...

Surrender to the natural flow, it's easier...