Marly says one never stops revising (or something like that)
IN THE SEPIA PHOTOGRAPHS OF HAPPINESS
In the sepia photographs of happiness
you stand in your unaccustomed suit
married now to the heart of a
wearing an orchid on your lapel
We think it will last, happiness
You told me of that boyhood
shooting arrows, killing doves, brown
& sweaty among the lathered horses
When you squinted at the sun
shadows fell behind us. It’s the church
of high noon, the dazzled orchard now, &
yes, I too grew up. It’s a dizzy toss
rice and confetti, bullets & roses
your scheduled seductions
In my high cabin I repeat
the voluptuous histories of light
where morning jewels the clouds
glinting like pigeon feathers, my soft life
still iridescent, shattered, & still warm
(somewhere on her own Palace at 2:00am blog she noted that..that a poem isn't ever quite finished. Marly Youmans, that is. Now, as for this one...well, some things are still not quite there...a bit too precious at some corners, and perhaps a bit too...well, I don't know. But I like parts a bunch. )
posted by jarvenpa @ 9:04 PM
2 Comments
2 Comments:
It would be nice and easy if time passed and there seemed nothing to change, every syllable right, but it doesn't work that way for me.
I like what you do with the glistening pigeons and "you," via time's metamorphosis. And it's funny but if you have arrows and doves and love in a poem, there's always something there that would interest the ultimate boy with arrows, Eros, and his Psyche.
Thanks for the blog-honor!
THis is both beautiful and moving.
Your images are delicious....the church of high noon, the dazzled orchard..
Post a Comment
Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]
<< Home