Hang the palms of the garden against the wall
Watch for me. There are no prohibitions, no shibboleths
Against coming closer...for I have lost that which tests...purity.
I come from the ocean, from the water that created blood
On the first fields I have stained my coat in its creation
While the forest gasps against the scrape that finds the bones...
You'll see me there.
--beat, breath, beat, breath, beat, breath--
What curled from my forehead hardens on my feet
My taste for salt and flesh replaced by limestone light
Pricking on my tongue when I inhale. I smell a flood,
A war; I've become a discorn come to carry the discord;
What shall ride on my crown that once carried a spear?
Do you bring a new blade for me? The creature by the wall
You mistake for woman and approach so softly.
Sharing this week with Poets United and The Sunday Muse. This past week has been a little about rage...it was a little difficult to look even at The Muse's prompt without seeing...well, red. Hoping next week brings a little breathing space. Good writing & reading, all.
-- Chrissa
Wow Chrisss this is amazing poetry! It conveys both a freedom and a enslavement to me. It is poetry that will linger in my thoughts for a long time!
ReplyDeleteReally enjoyed the imagery here. I can feel the power of your words!
ReplyDeleteAre you responding to the insanity of current events? There is great power in this poem. Maybe all we outraged women need to take to the streets! Great writing, Chrissa.
ReplyDeleteI see this as nature finally catching up and taking revenge for us and our gardens and walls.... maybe one day we will learn
ReplyDeletePowerful. She reigns.
ReplyDeleteInteresting. Dont think i understand ig all. Maybe im not supposed to, lkje one of those painting you stare at and stare at at an exhibition.
ReplyDeleteHappy Sunday. Thanks for dropping by my sumie Sunday
Much🌻love
...the gasping forest, the call to arms so to speak... the ending "approach softly" is wonderful
ReplyDeleteSuch a powerful poem and speaks of a mighty enforcer. I loved this, Chrissa. 💪
ReplyDeleteAs always beautiful word-weaving in this. The middle bridge line is really important to the piece, I think. The imagery is so powerful, that the pause 'beat, breath … ': confers such a note of life … at its most basic and tenuous.
ReplyDeletePowerful poem.
ReplyDeleteI come from the ocean, from the water that created blood... fabulous!
ReplyDeleteA great title and this is definitely a woman’s poem, Chrissa, written from the female heart. I especially love the lines:
ReplyDelete‘I come from the ocean, from the water that created blood
On the first fields I have stained my coat in its creation’
and
‘Do you bring a new blade for me? The creature by the wall
You mistake for woman and approach so softly.’
enjoyed the imagery. dark, but lovely.
ReplyDeletesometimes what we see is not what it is.
I enjoyed the well simmered rage in this. All it needs is a bit more before it boils over and burns down everything in its path,
ReplyDeleteA tad miffed I would suggest!
ReplyDeleteSome miraculous lines in there . . . great stuff, Chrissi
ReplyDeleteVivid imagery... love your ending.
ReplyDeleteSuch beautiful imagery, Chrissa!
ReplyDelete"What shall ride on my crown that once carried a spear?
Do you bring a new blade for me? The creature by the wall
You mistake for woman and approach so softly."
Love this stanza.
The last three lines of the first stanza made me sit up a bit straighter. I felt the imagery of those words doing sharp things on my bones. Such powerful imagery.
ReplyDeleteHope this week beings gentler things.
Wow! Deliciously ominous.
ReplyDelete