Sunday, January 14, 2018

Hiding

I am hiding where you can't see
me, down where the roots find 
winding ways and secret water,
daughter of both silence and 
random lightning strike.

I am hiding where you can't touch,
such a stand-offish lonely sort
aboard a black-winged bird
absurd and glorious in her particular 
vernacular of singular songs and caws
jackdaws and crows
know better than a professor at his books.

I am hiding in the red detritus
I might as soon worship as any
many-strictured deity, and yet,
getting it wrong, being found out--
shouting and giving myself away,
saying yes, I really do reduce to
blues in the afternoon sung by
my own traitor voice on these pages like a kiss.
__________

for Fussy Little Forms: Chained Rhyme.

 

14 comments:

brudberg said...

I feel a search for a solitude in this, the image of those roots searching secret water sounds very much like reading books.... still it's not...
anything with crows work with me.

angie reinspired said...

i'll put up with your put-ons if you're willing to shout your own truth, and I see/hear you are:) And wearing red is not to be overlooked gf....you want to be found. you are brave. too noticeable to be overlooked. such a brilliant writer to be dumbed-down. my inspiration always.

Cloudia said...

You are a fountain of poetry.

"aboard a black-winged bird
absurd and glorious" YUP

May I use the opening 5 lines as my epitaph?

Sherry Marr said...

"...aboard a black-winged bird...." Sigh. So lovely. I had to go back and read it again when I realized the form, just to admire how you inserted those rhyming words so stealthily, I didnt notice first time through. Wow.

Sioux Roslawski said...

I especially love these two lines: "daughter of both silence and
random lightning strike."

hedgewitch said...

You are on such a roll, Shay--this in particular is delicate, strong and musical and both lament and celebration--no matter how isolated one can be by one's individuality, one can't help knowing it for what it is: all we have, our singing heart.Too many exquisite rhymes here to count, and each thoughtful and telling. Not sure I agree with the premise of the singer being reduced in any way, though--there is so much more that goes into the making of this song than just the bitter knowledge of the blues.

Marian said...

Ohh! Perfect. This is how I like the chained rhyme... running on, enjambing, often barely discernible, so cool. Your poem, three sentences, I admire that too. Cool that you made a chained rhyme poem that so deeply resonates with your specific voice, and images that are purely Fireblossom. Good good!

hyperCRYPTICal said...

I love this!
The first stanza could be me, calm and (very) slow to anger - but on the odd time I lose it - watch out!
A brilliant write Shay.
Anna :o]

Mama Zen said...

"absurd and glorious in her particular
vernacular"

That is poetry.

Anonymous said...

Hiding where we can't see but perhaps can feel? There is a delicate presence in this writing. The final stanza uncovers some painful but powerful truths.

Kerry O'Connor said...

This is nothing short of brilliant, Shay. Your rhymes are so intelligently rendered and never detract from the ideas and imagery. You are a master poet.

Lynn said...

Amazing words.

grapeling said...

my words fail, in the light of yours, Shay. ~

Carrie Van Horn said...

A song both glorious and beautifully humble. Your poetry never disappoints Shay! .....and I have never seen the Jim Carey movie you were telling me about, but I do agree...we all can have signs almost hitting us in the head, but we don't always see them, or truly listen.