Reanimated Lavender Granola Switchblade Nun rides again.

Monday, January 30, 2012

I Was Not The One

I was not the one who poured the night and all its stars
Into the cold curve of evening's cup.
I was not the stupid virgin
Working up her nerve.
I was not the one who fetched or served.

I was not the one who brought the bile or the blade
And not the one who baked a loaf of death.
I was not the cook
Who wrung the rooster's neck.
I was not the portion nor the plate.

In my gaze find the small gloved hand;
In my words sleeps the fox.
In my veins find the sweetness that killed
The bantam in the laying hen's box.

I was not the one who sent the master down the mad-path
Or the one who set him swinging from a tree--
But the one who slipped her son
Past the sere red eye of dawn,
In the silent early morning, that was me.
________

for Real Toads OLM

36 comments:

  1. I love the repetition, like the intonation of a chorus, it makes this feel like a verse from a renaissance composition.

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  2. This is haunting and lyrical, Shay.

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  3. The final stanza really brought this thing home. So caviler, cruel, and cunning.

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  4. Shay- Lovely poetics throughout... the denial and tone is resonating.

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  5. haunting is def the word for it...in defining who you are not you also define who you are...very nice piece shay....

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  6. " I was not the portion or the plate."

    No we are the Noa Noa
    the free people. . .


    Warm Aloha from Waikiki
    Comfort Spiral

    > < } } ( ° >

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  7. OH I love this one so much!!!! "not the portion or the plate"......"the small gloved hand. In my words sleeps the fox." And the last three lines are simply KILLER! A fantastic poem. "the one who slipped her son past the sere red eye of dawn.....that was me."

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  8. This puts pictures of Victorian tragedy in my mind. I just finished a piece with gloves as well... but its dark and I am left with the should I or should I not, publish it? I bet you, Shay, never wonder.

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  9. Although I don't hunt anymore, you took me onto a fox hunt on this one. Never caught the fox, though, it was to smart. ...the sered red eye of dawn... once again prevailed.

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  10. Beautiful and intriguing, and the ending so right. Although I don't really know what you're talking about, I feel as if, on some only slightly deeper level, I know EXACTLY what you mean.

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  11. Nice weaving of a dark and twisted mind...I like all the details...and your line lines gave this a wicket twist ~

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  12. Being in the midst of reading the Fire & Ice series set in a fantasy time of long long ago .. the last stanza immediately got me thinking about medieval times

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  13. Ooh, this is good, chillingly good.

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  14. This is a poem to savor like a fine wine, the words roll on the lips. The repetition adds to the intrigue and the beauty of the last lines really delivers. A highly memorable piece.

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  15. Too many good lines to quote--the whole poem is memorable, and though I seldom do so, I ended up reading it out loud, just because the cadence was so perfect. Last stanza--stunning. You are very impressive always, but the structure and rhyme here make a delivery system that turns the poem into a guided missile.

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  16. This is an intricate, delicate dance. Like Hedge said, the cadence is perfect. I really love this one.

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  17. You had me at "I was not the one who poured the night and all its stars/Into the cold curve of evenings cup." WOW and double wow.

    As others said, this one was great out loud read. It made me go back and read it again just to enjoy the the dance of the words off my tongue.

    Also, like others, it reminded me of Victorian Gothic novels...it also made me think "revenge is sweet":~)

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  18. the rythmn esculates the meaning - pushes the words down the throat...frankly - i love it...
    the whole vibe underpinning the lines is to my buds palatable and so sour its sweet enough to become sickly - awesome

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  19. Powerful words and jarring imagery. Well crafted!

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  20. Wow _ wonderful poetry, Shay...lyrical & haunting! You are getting better & better :)

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  21. The repetition..emphasizing "I was not the one"...I like that a lot..love the ending

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  22. Well measured surrealism that has me gazing at some mesmerizing playfulness. The seriousness of some of the images is offset by the underlying charm of the poet. Its presence there fills her absence in the poem with a sensual foreboding that tempts as much as it repels by its promise of danger. Certainly an invitation to partake of more than magic and ominous damnation!

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  23. In my words sleeps the fox. (love that)

    This lulls and flows like a love sonnet, but obviously it's not!

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  24. What the speaker isn't is so close to what the speaker is that the hair of difference is one perhaps only of how one is remembered versus how one sees herself. Like the voyager Bran who when he encountered the sea-god Manannan saw his kingdom as a dark and dangerous sea of cruel waves, while to the sea-god those waves were rolling fields of rich and golden wheat. The "I" the speaker identifies with is ten leagues down from the trapped one on the surface. - Brendan

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  25. Jeeze Louise...I mean, Shay. "I was neither the portion nor the plate." It was all stunning, but that line really hit me.

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  26. I agree with Margaret...the rhythm and pace of this "lulled" me into a calmness, but the words and meanings were a totally different matter!

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  27. What a fine, well composed protest. Subtle, exquisite images, and your distinct voice. What else could anyone want! Excellent, as always.

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  28. Skilfully and sensitively constructed. I love the images and flow of this piece.

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  29. Any poem with a fox is my favourite poem to read. The French have a proverb: Don't confess to foxes.

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  30. I have to agree with Sara. You totally had me at, "I was not the one who poured the night and all its stars/Into the cold curve of evenings cup." This first line grabbed me, drew me in and didn't let go until it had poured the entire poem into my being. It was vivid and powerful. Very, very well done. Blessings.

    http://kickinitwiththekids.wordpress.com/2012/01/30/garden-of-laughs/

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