Here is the Moon, with its baton,
puppetmaster of waters and women
low gravity dancer in the skies over Anytown.
My head is a bowl whose edges ring.
I have buried the years in flowerboxes
under every window. They bud into regrets.
Here is my marriage to a wildflower grave.
Here is the Moon, with its baton.
I want to run amok like an islander,
and may already have done, bobbing
in my cradle like an avid nun before Nyx,
puppetmaster of waters and women.
Listen, I need a month in the countryside
to knock these Perspex-eyed monsters
out of my dreams, to lighten me and render me
a low gravity dancer in the skies over Anytown.
Baby, I'm freezing, I can't take delivery
of myself anymore. The Sun has reversed
herself, gone down the well, and my head oh
my head is a bowl whose edges ring
with unbearable Moon-song I don't know how to stop.
_________
for Word Garden Word List--Spill Simmer Falter Wither
Music: Kim Carnes Breakin' Away From Sanity
Just brilliant descriptive concepts here, Shay, vivid and unforgettable. The moon, that light for lovers, becomes a sinister and powerful apparition, turning the very skies to a threat. I love the phrase 'low gravity dancer," as well. The form is perfect for this reiteritive terror, twisting it's point of emphasis as it repeats. The whole leaves the reader breathless, almost apprehensive, overtaken by the hungry ghosts of the unconscious. I particularly love the flower boxes. Darkness visible, indeed.
ReplyDeleteI savored it all, but was really struck by the second stanza about burying the years in flowerboxes and how they then bud into regrets. Brilliant. And I also was struck by the fifth stanza- yes, taking delivery of oneself some days surely is not easy! This poem just flows......
ReplyDeleteAmazing writing, so beautiful, such incredible images, each one unexpected and perfect. The flower boxes, the wildflower grave - and "that unbearable moon-song I don't know how to stop." Exceptionally beautiful and original writing.
ReplyDeleteGreat images - and yes it is all madness - it is amazing the fantastic perspectives on life. Once again you have excelled yourself.
ReplyDelete"My head is a bowl whose edges ring." I so love that line. Your poem is visual, the picture of a troubled mind so vivid I feel it. Beautiful writing
ReplyDeleteJust so wonderful, Shay. The opening lines are so apt:
ReplyDelete"Here is the Moon, with its baton,
puppetmaster of waters and women"
and then these lines are just stunning:
"My head is a bowl whose edges ring."
"with unbearable Moon-song I don't know how to stop."
How do you do it, Shay? This is captivating. I am astounded here and want to copy and paste lines back to you, but if I start that "I don't know how to stop." This poems just rings and rings, a dark, extraordinary brilliance, if I can use that as a term.
ReplyDeleteThe way you weave and spin, like a boxer with words, knocking 'em out with precision and grace --- You're a stunner of a poet, Shay.
ReplyDeleteAmazing cascade poem! I love your re-use of the lines. Brilliantly done.
ReplyDelete