Words are not the lips that speak them.
A body is a shadow of one shape, then another, then none.
No one holds an apple and says, "Here is a peel, nothing more."
We eat the fruit and leave the ants the core.
"Simple insects," says the man.
Simple human, beneath the tree.
And on the ground when both have gone,
those humble and forgotten gods--the seeds.
_______
A meditation on physicality for Art FLASH at Real Toads.
Yes. Those humble and simple gods, seeds. You took a unique turn on the prompt, as you usually do. A spectacular take. I like that is left behind are the seeds and the cre of the apple for the ants
ReplyDeleteWOW! Speechless at its perfection.
ReplyDeleteThat is some kind of genius, girl.
ReplyDeleteI cannot read this enough times. I’m going to have to memorize it.
DeleteNow you have gone and given me the chills....
ReplyDeleteExcellent, wise and beautiful.
I love the way this piece revolves down the basic essence of it all — the seeds. Excellent write Shay!
ReplyDeleteI enjoyed the sleight of hand in your shell game, Shay. I love that the simple human and simple insects share the apple and leave the ‘humble and forgotten gods’ to do their magic.
ReplyDeleteThis launches as the Bizarro World alternative to every other response to the prompt. What do we know of octopussies anyway that isn't eight shades of wrongo bongo? Ahem and amen. But why draw a poem?
ReplyDeleteOf course you know I love that last line..simplicity and its component opposites are exquisitely realized here.
ReplyDeleteThis is sublime. The imagery is ethereal- especially with the thought of the seeds as gods. Beautiful.
ReplyDeleteFirst of all, perfect title..Your last line hits with a punch. Oh, I've lived the Carnival Religion.
ReplyDeleteIndeed.. in the end we leave what really matters.
ReplyDeleteThe core and the seeds
It is all down to seeds and core. Unique direction for this.
ReplyDeleteBrilliant. Truly Brilliant
ReplyDelete