Here is something from the February of a heart,
cigarette smoke caught in a bell jar,
roses in river ice.
She was dark haired--half onyx, half common crow,
a revised edition of herself,
a slow-fused Chinese firework.
What is there to say now, in too-bright summer?
Her presence made one feverish,
a Vienna of the blood, a powerful champagne.
To be delirious is to be happy, as falling birds are, briefly.
Her smile a trespasser, she owns unsteadily, carelessly,
one's fine, burning, hotel of the moment.
Here is something from the February of a heart--mine.
One recovers precariously from enchantment,
feather in hand, but sorry the way birds are, when they die.
________
art: Gustav Klimt "Golden Tears and Kiss"
This is a gorgeous tumble of images, especially the falling bird, whose descent ties them all together. The opening sets the mood, it really begins to articulate at that second stanza--"half onyx, half common crow," and then it just excels itself line by line to that perfect, cutting final stanza. Exquisite writing, Shay. And thanks so much for doing a word list prompt. I have dearly missed them.
ReplyDeleteGah! Your imagery is stunning and I really FELT the recovering from enchantment, "sorry, the way birds are when they die." This poem went straight to my heart, which has also known enchantment and its loss. Just beautiful, Shay.
ReplyDeleteShay, maybe I’m cigarette smoke and you’re my bell jar. The way you write catches me, holds me, until the end - as happy as a falling bird. I’m ever impressed in how you tie each description together in potent imagery, and bring it full circle, with complimentary subject of the falling bird. Theres a real equilibrium to this piece, I feel.
ReplyDeleteLove the Klimpt you chose ... from the February of a heart, intrigues as it holds fewer beats, days, hours .....
ReplyDeleteI love how “the February of a heart” could suggest an age range, I’m thinking 8th or 9th grade—young love, maybe first love. I like how the sneaky other firsts slip in here as well—cigarettes, champagne.
ReplyDeleteThese are my favorites:
“She was dark haired--half onyx, half common crow”
“a slow-fused Chinese firework”
“a Vienna of the blood” ... this makes me think of the love story in The Sound of Music—Rolf and Liesl. Oh, I just read that Vienna is known as the City of Music; I like that “party in the blood” image. I think “Vienna of the blood” and “feverish” could also suggest anger—as in, she got under your skin easily—maybe someone who made you conversationally fiery?
“Her smile a trespasser, she owns unsteadily, carelessly”
Anyway, fabulous poem, as always.
You capture us at the first stanza with imagery of a frozen and gorgeous memory and pull us through like a friend revealing secrets finally. Your use of imagery is always utterly amazing. "cigarette smoke caught in a bell jar", "a slow fused Chinese firework.", among many more! You make me see what you are saying like I can take a peak into your very thoughts and heart. Truly you had me at the title...there could never have been an exit after that. Sigh.....I love this!
ReplyDeletesigh. no one writes love poetry like you, Shay.
ReplyDeletethat final line. yes. as someone too who loves birds, this rings true and hits hard ~
"To be delirious is to be happy, as falling birds are, briefly.
ReplyDelete...
but sorry the way birds are, when they die."
That is crazy great.
Really like the intense visceral nature of this piece - both tenderly and sumptuously done... Bravo!
ReplyDelete"Her smile a trespasser, she owns unsteadily, carelessly,
ReplyDeleteone's fine, burning, hotel of the moment."
that part spoke to me most, and especial hotel of the moment, and not any hotel of the moment, but a burning one. its chaos all the time, in every direction, and if its always chaos then its always normal... and burning... i get that. great details in this, great storytelling
I'm spiralling as I read this through heady love into the despair of disillusionment - but it's all good poetry: wonderful, in fact! I love 'the February of a heart.'
ReplyDeleteOh my god, the imagery is divine. I wish I could write like you. Killer lines like:
ReplyDelete"a Vienna of the blood, a powerful champagne."
SWOOOOOON. That's a stunner for sure.
But, Shay, you have to stop doing this to me, stop making me feel so in awe and in wonder of your work. I mean, holy shit, I'm probably going to give this so many re-reads. This poem is entirely enchanting, the gravity in it weighs on you, and it leaves a mark on you. Always love reading you! <3 <3
Exquisite. I enjoyed digging into each line. The image of "feather in hand" at the end was a striking ending to the journey. Love the way the raven/crow is making a presence in our OLN this week.
ReplyDeleteExquisite. I enjoyed digging deep into each line all the way to the image of "feather in hand" at the end of the journey. Love the way the crow has made a presence in our OLN poems this week.
ReplyDeleteWriting that took my breath away. So much so that I came back to be breathless again and again. Wonderful.
ReplyDelete