I take back what you have stolen and in your languages I announce I am now nameless.
My true name is a growl.
Margaret Atwood

20 April 2018

play outside

rub red bricks to roughen hands -
later, he'll forget the smashing silence
of a skull, bearing a seagull's weight
of blows in the undertow -
not knowing white chalk outlines outside
are knuckle scraped imprints
of the carriage deadflowing
dried mother's milk
much less divine, how growing baby princess' fists
will reclaim the blood in power

plated 55 for our host Hedge at  Friday 55 at Verse Escape

prose is my piano e forte - so this is prosetry, which fits the bill in its own way ~ a blender family on high speed pulp action


  1. play outside, indeed, words like bricks - dangerous and ensorceling ~

  2. For some reason my brain keeps putting a political interpretation on this...those baby princess fists, I suppose...tho it could just be a song of struggle and supremacy or a saga of birth/rebirth. The images are unique and stark, the language very rich, and for me, the ambiguity adds to its power. I like poetry that works its magic in the realm of the undefined and allows the reader some room to wonder...thanks for playing this week, willow, and may your weekend kickass.

    1. thanks Hedge ~ and no, I hadn't considered a political interpretation to this when writing, but I do see how it could be read this way too ~ and I'm good with it. You're quite correct, sometimes a poem doesn't have to be 100% concrete in the definitions. I agree with you, some of the best poems are within the realms of the undefined, where wonder and layers reveal themselves over time, in conversation with the reader.

  3. This one hits hard. "Smashing silence" stands out.

  4. I love the way you have linked lines and ideas together with the assonance of - ow - and the alliteration of the hard and soft consonants, s, b, d..

    It really rocks here:
    he'll forget the smashing silence
    of a skull, bearing a seagull's weight
    of blows in the undertow

    So caught up in the way it sounds, but the strength of images like the chalk outline and the dried mother's milk point to a kind of darkness to be found in the daylight hours.

    1. thanks Kerry - and I'm glad you mentioned the "sound" aspect - the assonance and words playing off each other - often, I'm not deliberately conscious of this when writing - I kind of become "one sighted" with the words, forgetting there are many ways and levels to experience poems and prose passages too.


thanks for sharing your thoughts, I greatly appreciate it.