The blackbirds are dying and sing their death
from stump and steeple, barrel and rail.
The police are called every time it snows
and they maunder in the fields, dithery and pale.
I have seen the Chimera
and your barn is burning down.
She is lion, goat and snake
and your barn is burning down.
Morning appears and suffers a scalding dew.
There is a killer hiding where the lilacs grew
beside the porch of the rectory he burns and claims
the Chimera is you, and you, and you.
I have smelt the Chimera.
Her skin is fragrant with misery and death.
In the ashes, I have smelt the Chimera.
Her skin is fragrant with misery and death.
In the field stands the papier-mache president.
His is the pomp of smoke house and sty.
The postman delivers catastrophes ill-sent
as the blackbirds call, and falter, and die.
There was love, some say
kept in jars on an old woman's counter.
The gloomy blackbirds beg her for rest,
rest in jars, there on her counter.
There is no more clattering, no good book held high.
There are weeds in the window box, crackling dry.
The killer is hiding where the lilacs grew
telling fools their fortunes from a blackbird's eye.
I have seen the Chimera
coming fast through the dawn
with seven devils to drive her
the Chimera drives on.
_______
Shay--The repetition in this piece really makes this poem compelling... and the music perfectly complements the piece. How do you find the just-right music to marry with the text?
ReplyDeleteThis is just masterfully done, Shay. The aura of Stevens is palpable in the repetition, the stark but brilliant images, and the cadence which never lets up. I am especially struck by the first lines of the second stanza, and struck down by the finish. Exceptional, devastating writing.
ReplyDeleteChilling images, there is a sense of claustrophobia about this, an inescapability of the situation. I had to look chimeras up, and seeing the image you chose convinces me that they are unnatural but they are also survivors.
ReplyDeleteEverything about this poem is brilliant Shay; from the repetition and images to the wonderful rhyme and fierce closing lines. The other thing that sticks out to me in general, is that you never repeat yourself in poetry. What I mean is, each poem is a unique story, feeling or message that is always fresh, raw and amazing. That is something only a talented poet can do!!
ReplyDeleteI am glad I wrote my poem before reading this or I might have grown faint-hearted. Smiles. Spectacular writing. I admired every line. I agree with Carrie, your range is astonishing, each poem so distinctly and incomparably yours.
ReplyDeleteoh, so you're going to set the bar so high none of us can reach it. ok, i see how you are =} great poem. i like all the language and imagery in this, nothing i can pull out as better than the rest. i like your doomsayer character, the killer in the lilacs. very well done shay
ReplyDelete"The police are called every time it snows" - fabulous. But this: "the Chimera is you, and you, and you." Best chimera ever.
ReplyDeleteReally a fun read, Shay. I love to read the prompter's poems, then I wonder if they had something in mind before choosing prompt words. Yours fit nicely, most (I didn't count, perhaps every one?) seemed to be used. That takes a lot of skill. Have a nice week, thank you for prompting and finding "Wallace Stevens" for us. After I leave here I am going to see if any of his works are in our library.
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