Standing on a barachois,
stone still above the high watermark
among driftwood,
seaweed and twine,
a razorbill
unhinges its beak and bawls.
If this pen had been the barrel of a gun,
had these words been bullets,
I would have fired upon it,
as cherubs take potshots at us,
if only to silence the squawking.
18 comments:
shockingly beautiful
beautifully shocking
a very serene and gentle scene... then a blow: the last line of the first stanza...
"unhinges its beak and bawls"
this doesn't feel like a soft image... a very unfamiliar description... rather brutal (and this very feature makes it so impressive... great job!)
and this brutality contiues with the images of gun... bullets... firing... silencing the squawking...
among all these harsh images in the second stanza, one image stands in sharp contrast to others(making this part very impressive ,too): cherubs... their childish innocence and gentleness...
we are shocked and impressed just to awake to this fact that this is exactly what we do when we write...
we use our words... we write just to silence that squawking sound within...
cherubs' gift is knowledge...
and i do believe each piece one writes is one step forward in the path of awareness and knowledge...
this is just the way i communicated with this work, Jon...
i like it very much... breathtaking and insightful... and full of emotions...
thanks
Maybe the cherubs are jealous. There are times I would like to unhinge my beak and bawl.
Cherubs take potshots at us...
bullets, silence the squawking in death?
Ouuuu, it is a dangerous poem?
love
Your pen is the barrel of a gun--I assure you!
I like this piece a lot! you surprise us with the turn of your words and insert that gentle cruelty of cherubs in there too ... very nice
Roxy
Um, okay.
Crow... thanks for your careful reading of this piece... you've hit the nail on the head here (as always)... I tried to use some plosives here to make it more harsh and lots of punctuation to be a bit choppy... I started out with only the line about the pen and the barrel of the gun and the rest formed up around... was inspired by a line from Moby Dick... when Ahab is described as having a cannon in his chest... and yeah I think that there's some commentary about why we write too... sometimes it seems like it's to silence a voice... and sometimes I wonder if a cherub shoots that arrow just so that I'll stop writing such sappy lines all the time... and then I thought it might be productive to write about that... not like I'm trying to explain myself away or anything... again... thanks for your thoughts... see ya soon... and I still owe you that note... got some news for you...
Deb... yeah... those pesky little friggers are always out for their own purposes... eh???
Andrea... dangerous... and I love it... danger is my middle name... no wait... it's William... lol... love to you too...
EOTR... thanks... I've been reading your site and all the angelic writings there so I figured that a cherub cast in a different light might perk your interest... hope you find my comment there...
Honour... and on unrelated note... that letter you sent to the fac. wasn't in vain!!! thanks so much... will write you more later today or tomorrow... you're the best!
BBC... I'm going to take that as a compliment
Thanks again to everyone for stopping by... see you all soon...
JON
cherubs taking potshots - what an image! this is such a majestic poem, with such loud and blatant tones. Beautiful.
Thank you for stopping by my blog. I definitely will be checking yours out often.
Great visuals!
I'm not quite sure what the cherubs intend when they shoot at me
But they sure don't get silence
I left you some notes on images and stories. hope they help.
I should point out that when I first look at an image, I don't look for a story.
I don't look for anything.
I just look at it
And feel it
To me images either have "it" or they don't.
Usually I can tell what the photographer was going for even if he didn't catch "it"
Often they comes close, and I appreciate close, I know how hard "it" can be to capture.
Gee, I guess you do not like razorbills, huh?
sounds like road rage of the seashore!
LOL
Cherubs taking potshots. So Ace.
though the way life is moving-or not, soon silence will pass into legend.
ohhh..... looking forward to hearing the hopefully good news!
Noisysmiles... nice of you to drop by new friend... glad you thought it to be blatant... I strive for simplicity... even though some times it all seems needlessly complicated here... and I'll be checking out your site regularly too... well met...
BOBB... I really appreciate the write-up you did for me about the photography... it's been in my mind all this week... especially the part you wrote about Hendrix... that's a great way to talk about self-taught... and I love that idea... that one can be self-taught... it's inspiring on so many levels you have no idea... thanks my friend...
Lynn... actually I really do like the razorbills... it just so happened that they fell under the hammer for this post... poor shaggers... it wasn't their fault...
Duke... Jack of Clubs... blackjack!!!
Ben... nice to meet you mate... took a look at your blog as well and was impressed by what I saw... you've got a strong voice... it's nice to see that so many of us can come together in this sphere of the blogosphere... will check back on you soon...
Honour... again... I'm a procrastinator... but you can probably guess by now that what I want to tell you is that they took me into the program!!! :) your letter was a big help!!!
langurous....
and if only, if only pen, can silence the squawking....
Hi Deli...
Welcome back... hoping you had a nice trip...
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