I have sent my driver, with the map in his head.
He'd be better off blindfold.
Better off dead.
Banter with him as events unfold.
Pretend you've not gone mephitic and old.
Forever is the thing, forever is the word.
Forever the mounted, desiccated bird.
I have sent my car with the soft leather seats.
All the ash trays nailed,
sick with sweets.
I wait for you breathless, gloved and veiled
tubercular, powdered, primped and paled.
Here love's cricket who last night chirred
lies dead in the mouth of that god-damned bird.
____________
for The Sunday Muse #165, where I am hosting.
There is an insistence here impossible to ignore. Another beautiful bauble from Shay. (LC would have wanted it for himself)
ReplyDeleteThank you!!!
DeleteMy heart understands these lines all too well! An amazing poem as always my friend! I have really been enjoying all the wonderful rhyme and your imagery always is well crafted and cuts true and clear like a sharp knife should!
ReplyDeleteGlad you enjoyed, my friend. This form is called a Rhyme Royal.
DeleteMarvelous rhyming! "Tubercular, powdered, primped and paled" conjures quite an image. That last stanza deserves a standing ovation! Bravo
ReplyDeleteThanks indeed.
DeleteAs always when you do form, especially rhyme, your words wrap it into a slingshot of power, striking the reader in all the vulnerable spots. I especially like here the economy of words, which I deeply envy. Your first and fourth stanzas(and of course final one) particularly strike me between the eyes, with their load of blackshot pain and bitter acceptance/resignation. Just excellent writing, and not a syllable that doesn't shine with meaning and intent. Out of the park and into the next galaxy.
ReplyDeleteI was pondering our old 55's and how that forced us to be economical and careful of our choices. I ended up going back to an old standby, the rhyme royal, hoping for the same effect. I'm so glad you liked it, and as always, grateful for your thoughtful comment.
DeleteThere is a reason why I post my humble poems before reading anyone else's, especially yours, because then I might not post. LOL. Your lines are, as expected, crisp, original, highly imaginative, lines only you could write. I loved this!
ReplyDeleteI do the same thing, Sherry. I try to write mine before visiting others. So glad you're here doing the Muse with us this week!
DeleteOhhhh... So good. This: "Here love's cricket who last night chirred / lies dead in the mouth of that god-damned bird." That is crazy great. You sent us the driver, and I can hear his motor running out in the driveway. Not sure I want to go look our the window. Like HW said, the economy is perfect here, and the rhyme makes it incantation. Begs who/what have you summoned?
ReplyDeleteI never know until it gets here!
DeleteA lot end this way. I loved the "dead cricket." Your rhyme is good too.
ReplyDeleteThanks for the photo prompt.
..
Shay--As always, on the occasions when you use rhyme, it always seems seamless--not forced at all. What a powerful piece.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Sioux.
DeleteShay, you make me laugh, you make me cry, you make me cringe, you make me want to offer you a knowing nod (but what the hell do I know), you make me want to slap you a hi-five, you make me feel I should apologize, you make mr wanna run and hide — but mostly, you make me wanna read you! Damn!
ReplyDeleteThen my work here is a success! :-)
DeleteHere love's cricket who last night chirred
ReplyDeletelies dead in the mouth of that god-damned bird.
Great close Fireblossom, Ma'am! It's a contrast from innocence of the previous stanzas to a sudden twist of fate rather alarming in the close! Makes it an interesting read!
Hank
As Joy could outdo Dante, you leave Grimm in your wake.
ReplyDeleteEvery syllable pointed as a thistle. I had forgotten this form; you imbue it with steel and velvet.
Thanks for visiting my blog, i really like your suggestion for that one line. My original is perhaps too glib., and yours carries economy yet packs power.
So glad to see you, grapeling! And yes, Grimm, I cut my teeth on those tales.
DeleteHaunting...and the end may have brought up a chuckle. Makes me wonder what was done to call up that car.
ReplyDeleteOld family recipe?
Deletelearned a new word 'mephitic'
ReplyDeleteHappy Sunday
Much💛love
I'm here to help.
DeleteLove your words , so evocative and creepy, especially the penultimate stanza. Fabulous poem.
ReplyDeleteMarion (I might show as Chris - had to swap laptops so logged in as the other half).
Nice to see you, Marion, and I'm glad you mentioned that stanza cos it gave me some trouble. Often it seems to be the troublesome bits that end up fine, yeah?
DeleteCatching from the first word to the last, the rhythm like driving on a perfect cobblestone road. It feels ready to be sung, slow, savouring each word.
ReplyDeleteMethinks I will need to get better acquainted with a Rhyme Royal, if your example is anything to go by. ♥
ReplyDeleteA line so rich in meaning:
ReplyDelete"Forever the mounted, desiccated bird."
Very accomplished piece. 'Memphitic' needed Google!
ReplyDelete