Monday, June 9, 2008

Cormorant

He was awaken. Through the window a cormorant was at rest on the rock, stretching her wings against the rain, settling again, sleek fisherman.

He did not notice it move. It was simply gone, naturally processed, siphoned elsewhere.

He would capture her, hold her memory for good, if not for the battery in the camera or his belief that what is wild and elusive must stay so.

He opens the door and skirts the splattering sky below where the eaves should be. Still a salvo strikes his neck, clapping applause, punctuating his skin. The goal was not to feel the water but to feel the rain, feel the calmness of the unphased cormorant, like her countenance would stick to the rock after she flew away, mingling with the moist.

He scoots back inside, shakes the water from his arms and runs a hand through his hair. Drips drop on the hardwood floor, anointing earth's oil on varnish.

He catches a glimpse of a seal diving, a question mark slipping through the surface, freeze framed by the routed white wood holding glass.

He questions what he takes for coincidence, elusive signs of a catalyst, inescapable, like the rhyme he struggles not to write down.

No one likes the time balanced on a tack. Everywhere are signs to get things back on track.

12 comments:

Fern said...

a baptism a bath a birth a new balance?

human being said...

this piece can stand alone... whole and shinning like a gem...
but my mind tends to see it as a resolution in the chain of your previous works...
then this image of "elusive signs of a catalyst" gains more depth... i feel the chaos is forming into a beautiful shape... no mournful regret over the cormorant's disappearance but a sweet acceptance... (Ferns's beautiful comment can be repeated here...)

and you've captured her by your words... eternalized her...
and through her you've gained a great thing...
did you know that cormorants in old times were trained to be used in fishing? ... in a very strange way, of course...
she helped you to fish, too...

magnificent piece.... sure the crow returns to crow more!!!
;)

chook said...

It's not the cormorant but the rock that is balanced on a tack in the fleetness of time. The shag (as we unfortunately call them here in NZ) is but a blur on the edges of memory.
....until London

Bobbb - Citizen of Earth said...

This is very nice
I like the rock, countenance lingering
I know this rock and the cormorant too...

Right on target

The natural cycles of things
Once you begin to become attuned
How obvious it all becomes

And how trivial
Everything else…

Beware

K.C. said...

I came to your blog because of your comment on HB's last blog post. I loved what you said, so I wanted to see what you were all about. So glad that I did. This was really beautiful.. KC

K.C. said...

Thank you for stopping back by. Taking your time for me means so much.

It was difficult, at first, to lay it all there. But, now, it has given me so much incentive to get it together. I have so much more in me than I thought I did.

And you are right. It is my spirit that is leading me here. I have found that in the past year.

To those who haven't, they may not know what I am talking about, and that is okay. Since I have, it is a humbling experience...

human being said...

sometimes a scene or something strikes you deep... the first impression is the general overview... the woods.... after some time you pay attention to the details... the trees... to see what are the constituent components of this 'scene' or 'something'... then the joy doubles...
that's why i read this peice several times... and each time Eureka! i found something...
it really resembles a well-cut gem...
the intricacy of the sound as well as the imagery patterns are so unbelievably neat...
no loose end or any crevices...
everything tightly woven together... read it once just conscious of the sounds...
this part is just an example:

shakes the water from his arms and runs a hand through his hair. Drips drop on the hardwood floor, anointing earth's oil on varnish.

see the alliterative recurrence of the sound /r/ and the mood and the image it creates? as if it is painting the scene... we see the streaks of water...
this sound is intermingled with repeated stop sounds /d/ and /b/ illustrating the drops...
also beware of the omnipresent /h/ sound here... as if you hear yourself as you breathe out... a sense of release...
there are lots of examples how the words are chained together with their sounds to reinforce their link in meaning or imagery,e.g.
/oi/-- anoiting .... oil...
/b/,/t/,/k/-- balanced... tack... back...track
you can find it more easily for the dominant sound in this piece, i.e. /s/

this intricate labyrinth is existent in the imagery, too...
the central image is that of being elusive vs. being clear or pinned down and fixed... this image is repeated through several exponents...

one of the exponets is the image of camera...
capturing... the window ( similar to the viewfinder of the camera)
also:
a glimps... freeze framed by the routed white wood holding glass.

exponents to show the tendecy to elude capture are:
sleek(one of the several meanings),processed, siphoned, rain,water, run, flew away, drip, drop, water(earth's oil) on varinsh, slipping,...

wow... this journey can countinue... the crow never gets tired to walk through winding paths of any labyrinth to find... herself...
thanks...

Honour said...

mmmm... this is a strong piece jon. "he questions what he takes for coincidence" ... there's so many layers here ... it's almost not prose. more poetry. i got this image of a tarot card while reading it ... in tarot, there is a strong belief that catalysts are inescapable - that you either accept them now or they follow you later. i've always liked that concept. that's kind of the emotion that's generated from this piece.

BBC said...

We have a few of those around here, I give them their space.

Sandpiper said...

Your writing is very good. Just grabs the attention and transports the reader.

Thanks for stopping by my blog.

DeLi said...

langurous..the kinds id love to read as i reflect on life apssing by and sips of coffee...

Cestandrea said...

Oh, a bit intimidated by all the comments of poetry specialists, I still would like to say that I read this and it's like delicious candy, you eat it very slowly and try to savour each second and explore the taste, and you are aware of the fact that someone spent hours and hours on preparing the candy.
But it is more, cause the words are able to paint images into my mind, see?
love
Andrea