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

26 May 2018

waiting on the rainbow prison


an uneasy parting, as someone's teeth
wait just behind the door -
clenched in drought
branches breathing bare life
held fast for wanting
of the transience of water -
there is no salvation in my equally dry mouth -
I witness the apple blossoms
bursting to bloom before the rain
I wonder which of us
is the contagion

*
written for Hedge's Friday 55 @ Verse Escape

12 comments:

  1. The teeth clenched in drought is a most startling image and one that speaks to me (knowing full well the nightmare of water restrictions). And, equally, it pains me to see an early blossom fall prey to late frost.. in all a feeling poem.

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    1. thanks Kerry - and although I've dealt with water restrictions before, certainly not as restrictive as what you're having to live. It's just such another sign and symptom of nature's provisions being outstripped by our demands. At least, I'm really grateful for my natural well water supply, for it runs deep - very deep - but even then, I don't think I've ever been more conscious than now, about water -

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  2. There always seems to be hidden in nature the perfect metaphor, the heart-wrench simile, the essence of emotion played out in a sphere that is intrinsically without any emotion besides what we inject into it...perhaps that's what makes it a rainbow prison. The tension between 'The transience of water' the bringer of life, and the waiting teeth, the desire for life/love, and everything that dries it up, make a fine devil's dance in this poem. Your last lines especially pull no punches.Thanks for finding 55, and such a 55, for us. Hope all that is left of your weekend kicks supreme ass.

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    1. thanks Hedge! it's true - the fine balance, in nature, which is more and more, thoroughly upset by all that is unfolding - and it's still a surprise to me, when for whatever reasons, I look around and note - and realize I can make some linguist connections and attribute these cycles to something about interpersonal relationships. Really appreciate your keen reading and sensitivity to my words.

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  3. Those waiting teeth, so often presented as a smile.

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    1. LOL - shark's smile? (if sharks smile ....)

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  4. Oh.. this is such a great poem.. amazing what you can do in just 55 words.. especially the end made me think... such a great set of melancholy in this week's contribution... it has to be the summer blues.

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    1. yes, I too had noticed the trending blues .... and we're still in spring, technically, although it's been hot enough to suggest otherwise ... but definitely, melancholic rounds abounding ~ thanks Bjorn.

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  5. Most poems see one or sometimes two deep -- the inside of the inside -- but three deep is a rare poetic gift -- a tenacity of labor that goes beyond the beading of words: And you often show it, as here. It take a feral heart to love what cannot be tamed. You nailed it.

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    1. It take a feral heart to love what cannot be tamed. You nailed it. -

      thank you so much Brendan - this means so much.

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  6. Both, maybe? Contagion, specks of white in the air moving, landing, washing away, this becoming something else. Sorry i wasn't heere at apple blossom time, friend. I've been taking an internut break. Sometimes i feel a lot happier just doing my unplugged thing, but your writing is one sure thing in a weird world.

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    1. LOL@ the email ya sent! Sorry - breaking/braking too - blossoms already gone.

      thanks for the thoughts though - and damn, if your thoughts have now sent my mind into another interpretation of this piece ๐Ÿ˜  (hahaha on me) - but it's all good - that's what "time away unplugged" can offer -

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thanks for sharing your thoughts, I greatly appreciate it.