Reanimated Lavender Granola Switchblade Nun rides again.

Sunday, July 12, 2020

Bucket Of Tar

Here is a bucket of tar 
and a photograph of us dancing
on the head of a pin
shaped from a cloud already burning away.

I know how angry you are,
that you'd love to pour across my border
and make me care, but 
my bridges are mirrors where magpies scry. 

I know I said things, we both did,
with knives and roses in our teeth.
I am Eve with an apple in my jaw,
for whom God made highways and the will to survive.

Take the tar
and make your skin warm again.
Travel over yourself to the next natural barrier,
listen to the river and toss the photograph in.
______


photograph by the amazing Susie Clevenger


9 comments:

  1. This is just the kind of poem that, rather than whispering in your ear, gets in your face. It's bold yet also finely etched and distinctive in its imagery. How often we are as different countries to each other, no matter how often we travel there. I love the bridges that are mirrors full of peering magpies, and the third stanza especially got me, leading up to a perfect close. Fine fine writing,Shay, to go with a very evocative photo.

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  2. A message to a lost lover to let it go like no one else could write it!! You have captured the raw complexity of love and it's loss can be and how two can walk away with different perspectives of what it is. I absolutely love the imagery in this!! Wonderful as always Shay!!

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  3. WOW! "My bridges are mirrors where magpies scry." Fantastic writing, as always.

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  4. Goodness, what an amazing poem! I am so honored my photo sparked such writing. There are so many things to love about this. Your second stanza hit me right in the chest. I wish I had written this poem!

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  5. Shay--This was such a powerful poem. The images, the feelings it evoked... As usual, I bow down to you.

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  6. Golly, that was, as usual, just great. I love the bucket of tar -- it could pave the road, a roof, it could cover us in boiling pain. The bridges line is perfect, as is Eve with an apple and the open highway. But then you smash it into the lights with:

    "Take the tar
    and make your skin warm again.
    Travel over yourself to the next natural barrier,
    listen to the river and toss the photograph in."

    Damn.

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  7. I enjoyed this bold , visceral and powerful piece.
    True love doesn’t always end on puffy clouds.
    The image of roses and knives clenched between
    teeth is “POW!”

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  8. "knives and roses in our teeth" - a piece of the power of this poem.

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Spirit, what do you wish to tell us?