For Jane Dougherty’s A Month with Yeats – Day Twenty-One Poetry Challenge. I have been indulging my inner warrior with these challenges, but lest you think I am a total bitch for the cause of justice, I do have a tender romantic side. I am a many faceted wonder, if I don’t say so myself. At any rate I have felt a bit guilty for subjecting you to my rants without softening it with a bit of fluff every now and again. So today, as yesterday, I give you two takes on today’s prompt verse from Yeats’, ‘The Ragged Wood’. Both are wrapped around the theme of propositions. Happy Tuesday!
‘…by water among the trees
The delicate-stepping stag and his lady sigh’ —W.B. Yeats
sunrise comes but once a day
rise with me before it breaks
I’ll make tea; we’ll have some cake
and watch the darkness slip away
I can share my dreams with you
my secrets, promise them to keep
dear, we have all night to sleep
but only dawn to see this view
I propose a kiss, perhaps a swoon
long before the busy, bustled hurry
leave it all to someone else’s worry
we could even linger until noon
And a proposition of a very different kind…in my favorite form…the Cleave (three poems in one. Read column 1 (which are actual quotes of a certain certain), then column 2, finally both columns together top to bottom)
He Said…She Said
I moved in on her / i couldn’t believe it
Very heavily…like a bitch / that son of a bitch
but I couldn’t get there / i was frozen
I’m automatically attracted to beautiful / he just kept coming
Like a magnet / that disgusting face
I don’t even wait / forcing his slimy lips on mine
You can do anything / with those tiny hands
Grab em by the pussy / everywhere…all over me
When you’re a star / no one would believe me though
they let you do it / i’m not rich, or a man
But nobody has more respect / so i just keep my distance
Such a nasty woman / i’ll keep this to myself
She’s certainly not hot / it’s so embarrassing
Why does she keep interrupting? / he could ruin me
There’s nothing I love more than women / it’s just the way things are
The Sun and The Moon
brilliant as the sun you are / cool as the moon are you
drawing me into your orbit / moving me like the tides
singeing me with white-hot passion / salty swells pounding the strand
warm flush reducing me to ash / over the edge, swirling shards of bone
sweeping me into a smoky haze / foaming flecks of sticky wetness
though others find your face alluring / reflecting flecks of distant luster
your steadfast devotion / illuminating the darkness
greets me at dawn / filling my nights
dewy mist rising / with sweet dreams of eternity
brilliant as the sun by day / cool as the moon’s pale glow
love’s slow burn / consuming me
A Cleave Poem for this week’s Mind Love Miseries’ Menagerie Sunday Writing Prompt Challenge inspired by Pablo Neruda’s Sonnet XVI (see below).
A cleave poem is three poems in one. Read the first column top to bottom, then the second top to bottom, and finally, read each line across top to bottom.
Sonnet XVI by Pablo Neruda
I love the handful of the earth you are.
Because of its meadows, vast as a planet,
I have no other star. You are my replica
of the multiplying universe
Your wide eyes, are the only light I know
from extinguished constellations;
your skin throbs like the streak
of a meteor through rain.
Your hips were that much of the moon for me;
your deep mouth and its delights, that much sun;
your heart, fiery with its long red rays,
was that much ardent light, like honey in the shade.
So I pass across your burning form, kissing
you – compact and planetary, my dove, my globe.
she wears a heart of sterling silver, pulsing, throbbing, blood-gorged sinew,
bejeweled art on a gilded, dainty chain, bleeding, breaking, burning, skipping,
a filigreed, embellished reproduction, nestled deep beneath bone and flesh.
it dangles from her neck for all to see, sometimes she wears her heart on her sleeve
it’s just an illusion, a token, messy emotions, hot, cold, spewing, searing,
that says, “love of mine, remember me”, the dark, the light, fierce honesty, authenticity.
dreamers wear hearts of sterling silver, it takes a strong, fearless soul to bear it.
Peace and Love,
(A Cleave Poem – To be read three ways. Column One, top to bottom; Column Two, top to bottom and each line across, top to bottom.)