listing waves of change– immense confused unwell– a bitter solitude– fretful shapeless still
wilderness estranged– damaged undazzled quelled reversed and left unmoored– a landscape murdered killed
misunderstood deranged hypnotic words cast spells– a whispered mania– the mind unravels, spills
connection broken frayed– once Paradise, now Hell
Bjorn at dVerse gave us the challenge of writing a bref double poem. I had a lot of trouble with the rhythm of this form, a dissatisfaction that I could only resolve by making the b and c rhymes similar.
Hands pause—you whistle between. White bridge slips through your fingers. Who can number the space of days? To cross them, you must open. The gate shapes all beginnings, all answers, to equal zero.
Lisa, at Tao Talk, supplied Colleen’s #TankaTuesday image, above. I wanted to try a sijo, which is the Wombwell Rainbow’s form this week. I think I’ve done one before, but it was a long time ago. I like the way it encourages the writer to think about different aspects of the same thought.
I’ve used some embroidered circles I did for a Kick-About prompt as illustration–the Eames Powers of Ten film, a barrage of images, made me think of zero, Lisa’s photo reminded me also of crossing the circles of space and time.
This week’s Oracle 2 words from Jane gave me a starting point–whistle. Which made me think of whistling in the wind. The human condition. Nevertheless, we continue.
You can read the story of the photo at Tao Talk here.
impossibly strewn, all authority breaks down– the fierce mother speaks
impossibly strewn, feral rain roars, abstracted– wind swims through the streets
authority breaks down, chokes on forgotten questions– threads turn into knots
the fierce mother speaks– wild voices rise, converging– elemental fire
The phrase that jumped out at me when I looked at Jane’s Oracle 2 words this week was “the fierce mother speaks”. I’ve been ruminating on it all week and finally came up with a poem yesterday. I spent a long time fooling around on the computer with the above image, which took a scan of an asemic drawing I made and added some Photoshopped images. The collage is from the archives.
Also linking to Sherry’s earthweal challenge, wild souls. Whose soul is wilder than that of Mother Nature?
They had collapsed into an empty cave of nowness, replacing a past of empyrean wonder with the unceasing presence of burning flesh, condemning the contagious and aliferous joy of birds to smoke-filled air hanging heavy over stone landscapes that had lost all green. What they called life, the promise of continuity, was at an impasse.
They had forgotten to build an ark.
They had forgotten to build an ark, and so they were left standing between a raging wall of flame and an infestation of endlessly rising waters. A fierce susurrus rose from the spirits of the ancestors–an oddly wordless murmur riding on the howling wind, carrying the silent but distinct rattle of bones.
what happens when where we were going is gone?–crows seize the winter sky
For earthweal, where Brendan asked us to fill your poem’s sails with a blast of something akin to the hurl of atmospheric plumes, and dVerse, where Mish has given us a list of uncommon words to incorporate in our poem. I’ve also taken inspiration from Jane’s Oracle 2 wordlist.