Sunday, February 24, 2019

Gifts that Bite


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

20 comments:

  1. 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!

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  2. Really enjoyed the imagery here. I can feel the power of your words!

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  3. Are 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.

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  4. I see this as nature finally catching up and taking revenge for us and our gardens and walls.... maybe one day we will learn

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  5. Interesting. 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.
    Happy Sunday. Thanks for dropping by my sumie Sunday

    Much🌻love

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  6. ...the gasping forest, the call to arms so to speak... the ending "approach softly" is wonderful

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  7. Such a powerful poem and speaks of a mighty enforcer. I loved this, Chrissa. 💪

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  8. As 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.

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  9. I come from the ocean, from the water that created blood... fabulous!

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  10. A great title and this is definitely a woman’s poem, Chrissa, written from the female heart. I especially love the lines:
    ‘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.’

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  11. enjoyed the imagery. dark, but lovely.
    sometimes what we see is not what it is.

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  12. 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,

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  13. Some miraculous lines in there . . . great stuff, Chrissi

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  14. Such beautiful imagery, Chrissa!

    "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.

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  15. 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.

    Hope this week beings gentler things.

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