I ... entered the poem of life, whose purpose is ... simply to witness the beauties of the world, to discover the many forms that love can take. (Barabara Blackman in 'Glass After Glass')

These poems are works in progress and may be updated without notice. Nevertheless copyright applies to all writings here and all photos (which are either my own or used with permission). Thank you for your comments. I read and appreciate them all, and reply here to specific points that seem to need it — or as I have the leisure. Otherwise I reciprocate by reading and commenting on your blog posts as much as possible.

12 May 2015

Secrets Rising Up

It was the merest fragment 
of a glimpse — she was
insistent on that — no clear view
of what he was withdrawing
from the early morning sea.
It could have been a body, or just
a mess of wet clay, she said.

I wanted to worry at her story, as if
it was a bone to be gnawed, and I
a dog with a huge empty belly.
My hunger was a sharp knife.
But it was like trying to bite fog;
my gnashing teeth closed on nothing.

The place had us both tangled —
lonely suburb at the ocean’s edge,
miasma weighting the air. Behind each door,
behind the blank face of every house,
you could almost smell it: blood.



This is another attempt at a poem using the following word list from some Pablo Neruda poems: fragment / insistent / withdrawing / sea / clay / gnawed / empty / knife / suburb / face / house / blood. It was in fact my first attempt, but I couldn't make it work so I wrote the 'Uneasy Tanka' instead. I've done some more work on this one since, and am linking it to this week's Tuesday Platform at 'imaginary garden with real toads'.


19 comments:

  1. This was lovely.. :D

    The place had us both tangled —
    lonely suburb at the ocean’s edge,

    Exquisite choice of words used in this poem :D
    Lots of love
    xoxo

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  2. Such a great description of this feeling that something is bad. Love the mystery you conjured.

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  3. I love the flavour of this poem, wonderful

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  4. The given words danced so elegantly in your poem. At the same time the mystery remains unanswered until the end. Great lines Rosemary!

    Hank

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  5. Wow! You've captured the secrecy of sameness, the gossip of it, the stench of it.

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  6. This is really cool! I want to know what happens next!

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  7. The last stanza really filled me with dread... the way of closed doors and whispers really came through.. the image of the dog gasping at air also came out strong.. Love a poem that has matured like this.

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  8. Uneasy or not, it reads fine to me. It's rather wonderful in fact. Thank you.

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  9. I love this, especially: "this place has us both tangled."

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  10. This is a fantastic tale, so well told......you used the words so well, they have bite, and piqued interest. Cool.

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  11. Ooooh, this was exquisite! Loved this

    "I wanted to worry at her story, as if
    it was a bone to be gnawed, and I
    a dog with a huge empty belly."

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  12. A tale that left me wondering...

    Great job.

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  13. I was about to mention the same lines as Mosk...really vivid and the tale is unsettling indeed...well done!

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  14. Fascinating. WHAT WAS IT!

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  15. Such a great weave here, shrouded in mist and myth--a sacred secret still relevant, still potent in a "tangled" location, a

    lonely suburb at the ocean’s edge,
    miasma weighting the air.

    -- Great stuff.

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  16. Truly an ominous feel to this--is it the horror of reality--always with us in city, country or suburb, or the chill and fever of madness? The ambiguity works well to make the mood even more sinister and dreamlike.

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  17. Outstanding! I loved the mystery you've woven with these words

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