I'd like to say I understand
and forgive as in the carpenter's command.
The once-lovely loaf has gone green in my hand;
the crows will have it now.
It's such a feeling to be living at the dawn
with new love in some contented Avalon,
but these things cannot go on and on.
They shy and die away.
Around your arm, a snake arrives
and I see your face reflected in its eyes.
It speaks one word--the word is "compromise."
It turns your heart to smoke.
I'd like to say it's all all right
and I can't remember anything I dream at night
but my bedside vase holds blooms gone dead and white.
They wave like conquered kings.
And so I'll say--no word at all.
Both the dawning and the dimming hold a sudden fall.
The gods we placed our faith in don't return our call.
"A taste of honey" is their lazy joke.
____________________
for Desperate Poets "Lonelytown"
Gah. No one writes lost love the way you do. This goes straight to my heart. Too many wonderful lines to quote.
ReplyDeleteLonely boots are laced thus - we all feel somewhat guilty for holding onto our extreme loneliness like a toy that belongs to someone else, but they are so great for walking in the rain. (The rhyme's lacing tells us so.) Loneliness is perhaps our second oldest companion, just ahead of the first one who left us so. Great to see you back with fire, Shay.
ReplyDeleteThe whole tone of this reminds me of another era, civilized but not yet arid, and full of nuance. Your rhyme is exquisite and reinforces a sort of classical austerity that yet is immeasurably rich. Your last lines remind me of my tag "the old gods laugh." Is it worse to taste the honey and then lose its sweetness than never to have tasted at all? The jury is out, I think. I especially love the snake and the dead flowers that "wave like conquered kings" Just brilliant. So good to have you back.
ReplyDeleteWow. This is both a gentle poem but runs so deep. And it's so stark in parts! Like these lines:
ReplyDelete"...my bedside vase holds blooms gone dead and white.
They wave like conquered kings."
But the belly-of-the-poem 3rd stanza, is beautiful and seems to resonate with quiet power, and somehow reminds me of a tarot card I can't quite put my finger on.
"Around your arm, a snake arrives
and I see your face reflected in its eyes.
It speaks one word--the word is "compromise."
It turns your heart to smoke."
Beautiful!
Vanquished by sweetness. Damn that Honey.
ReplyDeleteGreat use of form, I love the unexpected three line rhyme scheme. Like HW says, it gives it a classical discipline. Your line about gods not returning our call - terrific.
ReplyDeleteLove this. The imagery - the rhythm - the form - all of it gorgeously sweet with what was and what was lost.
ReplyDelete