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| image: Michael Sowa, from The Little King |
Encircling haint blue,
my fingers beg protection
and cling, earnestly,
to hot spicy tea.
Haunted by your once
sovereign-like presence,
restless memories flicker,
evading capture.
And so I sip,
trying to cleanse myself
of love's once honorable intentions
with a cup of gingered tea.
Perhaps a ceremonial ritual
will offer blessed escape...
Sepia newsprint "announcement",
a bit of history's "life blood"
and a weak male icon
become ashes in a box.
Covered with dirt
and sprinkled
with "haint blue" tea.
by Margaret Bednar, Art Happens 365, October 10, 2011
Another Magpie Tales (#86) prompt. My daughter said "another sad poem. You are like Edgar Allen Poe." LOL. I am NOT depressed but for whatever reason, "haint blue" just led me down this path. I really do want to write happy ... maybe next week! :)
I also linked this to dVerse's "Open Link Night - Week 13". Well over 100 poets will participate... check the link out!
funny, i was leaning towards the same thing - that you've had a lot of heartache in your life! :)
ReplyDeleteI like your poem a great deal: the panting effort of the aspirated "h" sounds, the dirt/ashes/root of ginger/sepia grime, and then the clean possibilities of blue.
ReplyDeleteThe heart sings in its own way, lending verse to the paper. What we go through often explores new expression with our writing.
ReplyDeleteOh, I love how you used the color of the mug!!!
ReplyDeletethe words come from somewhere...we cant always dictate their mood...nice...i think that ritual may have freed a few....
ReplyDeleteHa. Poetry for me is more like story telling. If I were to write non-fiction, my poems would be sing songy rhymey and happy all the time. Maybe visiting Savannah GA and reading "Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil" had a slight influence here, I don't know.
ReplyDeleteI smell the hot tea in blue mug now.
ReplyDeletehave a cheerful day.
Floated along on your evocative words and the color blue...and the warm tea...
ReplyDeletehey there...swinging back through on OLN and thought i would say hi...smiles.
ReplyDeleteI have to chuckle because I told myself the same thing...I need to post something lighthearted. I get into grim now and again. I like how you tied the narrative in with the tea. Very effective strategy.
ReplyDeleteThe tea sounds so good. I really like your poem.
ReplyDeleteI really enjoyed this one.
ReplyDeleteSometimes the words just flow, that I know. Great verse none the less, next week just think happy thoughts..haha
ReplyDeleteI love it when a writer claims to want to do one thing, but the muse takes them down another path. That's the path meant for you. There's a word for when someone forces a false path, even if they think they want it: pretentious. Oh - and I like this poem, excellent response to the picture.
ReplyDeleteI like the line my fingers beg for protection for the warmth and security of the mug
ReplyDeleteThis is great but sad seems like it is one of the moods and it will change soon I think your daughter is right
ReplyDeletehttp://gatelesspassage.com/2011/10/11/the-day-of-the-dead/#comment-1682
I am the absolute worst at that, trust me! The chronology of my poetry would appear that about every other month I have a complete mental breakdown and check into the lonely heart hotel.... but the heart wants what the heart wants and part of life is just us dealing with that. And happy or sad those are the most powerful emotions we can feel, and you know what? That's what we poets write about! It's beautiful and I think your poem is beautiful too. Really, very lovely Margaret.....
ReplyDeleteNow I shall have to Google 'Haint' as to me that would translate into 'I have not' and I'm curious...
ReplyDelete