every imprecation falls
lips spit cacology
Lamia’s grief devours
fin de siècle kerfs
with rusty halberds
sharp crack of violent intent
rustling crash
the forest felled
thick rubber crushes
the squirrel’s spine
No! here it plays out
clamp my ears
pantomime an oh
too late I realize
pour concrete in my eyes
there my brother skids
across the pavement
vehicle a weapon
extension of her vacuous mind
culpability resides with the lusus naturae
triggered memories
image is trapped
burning into me
elaborative encoding dance
accomplices have run
serologic atonement
Matthew said speak and if they listen
deeper yet, understand in Greek
you regain them
But why must I be the one?
if they don’t give a fuck
about the preventable destruction
how could they hear my lament?
no use bucking to prevent binds
empathy turns a blind eye
zoonosis, variola major virus
can’t kill what isn’t alive
maculopapular rash
fluid filled pustules
they promise it’s eradicated
hyaloplasm fights desiccation
ground substance inclusions athwart
I assault my eyes with chainsaws
embedded with diamond grit
this is the power it takes to clear sight
Notes/definitions:
imprecation: curse
cacology: bad diction
Lamia: in ancient Greek mythology she was the Queen of Libya that had an affair with Zeus and bore his children. Hera, Zeus’ wife was so jealous she had the children murdered (or in one telling forced Lamia to consume them). Either way Lamia was driven mad with suffering and was transformed into a horror that ate children.
fin de siècle: has several association one is the end of the century (it’s meaning in French) a time of great upheaval, mourning, and fear; a particularly sophisticated kind of suffering; an art movement in France especially the Symbolists and expressionist paintings like Munch’s The Scream.
kerf: slit or notch made by a cutting tool
rusty halberd: two-handed pole weapon used in the medieval times – it was often allowed to rust so that even if the initial wound inflicted wasn’t fatal the resulting infection (usually gangrene) might be.
vacuous: having or showing a lack of intelligence; empty
culpability: Culpability descends from the Latin concept of fault (culpa). The concept of culpability is intimately tied up with notions of agency, freedom and free will. All are commonly held to be necessary, but not sufficient, conditions for culpability. In explanations and predictions of human action and inaction, culpability is a measure of the degree to which an agent, such as a person, can be held morally or legally responsible. Culpability marks the dividing line between moral evil, like murder, for which someone may be held responsible and natural evil, like earthquakes, for which no one can be held responsible. – from Wikipedia
lusus naturae: a monstrosity; person or animal hideously deformed
elaborative encoding: psychological term pertaining to memory. In order to remember something well, whether an autobiographical or semantic detail elaborative rehearsal occurs when you associate new information with something you already know; you encode (store) memories by repeating this information. Strongly reinforced encoded memories are more available for retrieval (or recall).
serology: is the study of blood serum and other bodily fluids
atonement: reparation for wrongs committed
Matthew 18:15-20 New Standard Revised Version of the Bible: 15“If another member of the church sins against you, go and point out the fault when the two of you are alone. If the member listens to you, you have regained that one.16But if you are not listened to, take one or two others along with you, so that every word may be confirmed by the evidence of two or three witnesses.17If the member refuses to listen to them, tell it to the church; and if the offender refuses to listen even to the church, let such a one be to you as a Gentile and a tax collector.18Truly I tell you, whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven.19Again, truly I tell you, if two of you agree on earth about anything you ask, it will be done for you by my Father in heaven.20For where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them.”
bucking: process of chainsaw cutting the felled tree into logs; if you buck correctly gravity helps prevent binds
bind: when the chainsaw is at risk of getting stuck or is stuck in the log compression – an unsafe situation
zoonosis: is an infectious disease that can be passed between non-human animals and humans and vice versa
variola major virus: Smallpox in its most deadly form with a mortality rate of 30-35%. The disease was declared eradicated in 1979 by the World Health Organization.
hyaloplasm: medical term: the clear, fluid portion of cytoplasm as distinguished from the granular and netlike components. Also called ground substance.
desiccate: to dry out completely
diamond grit embedded blade: chainsaw blade required to cut concrete
headlong traffic. chaos and destruction.
i hope it was not a real death
but a nightmare warning us to value life
some kind of conceptual collision
minds are full of dark theatre.
it is the war they make with life.
sometimes i dream of being acorporeal
without offense without the mess of living
able to be an integral element within an ecology
beyond this landmine humanity
if i imagined letting everything go for clarity
for a sanctuary with a future
would i be alone? yes, and mad again.
i know eternal quarantine is still the answer.
sometimes it is hard to believe.
it is hard to find a truth you can walk into
some kind of contextual tangible faith
what is real? is there reciprocity and hope?
does this ecology have a place for me?
squirrels make no sense alone.
i dream of sitting still in a wild place
letting everything pass by me
watching creatures find their fare
their otherness together,
i could tell them where they fit
a prophet for their natural reconciliation
i am a redundant but harmless obsserver
is there some salve for your eyes?
language is such clumsy stuff
a double edged anarchy
if i try to write of safety and peace
the counterspaces stink of war
i should not write
some days i find hope in music
your music was lovely
and the artwork
and as always your poem
cuts to the core
These are such good and necessary questions Janet. There are three collisions in this poem. One was the unfortunate death of a squirrel in front of us yesterday (we didn’t hit it because we slowed down, easy enough), the second is the memory of my brother being hit by a car when he was a child (which I witnessed, she, the driver, also only had to slow down), and the third is the kind you so aptly described as a ‘conceptual collision, the dark theater of the mind’. The mind that uses elaborative encoding of traumatic memories (of all kinds) bringing horrific images to the forefront. Symbolically squirrels represent trust, and the incident stirred up the emotions of the other two collisions. Your poem is a deeply appreciated gift, thank you for your continued engagement and kind compliment this morning.
yes safety.
illiterate heartfelt
hope fear.
I loved this – there are so many levels to it. But the following stanza really spoke to me personally. WOW : i dream of sitting still in a wild place
letting everything pass by me
watching creatures find their fare
their otherness together,
i could tell them where they fit
a prophet for their natural reconciliation
i am a redundant but harmless obsserver
I’ll forward your comment to Janet :).
Wow. Deep thinking going on here. A terrific thought process, from beginning to conclusion. Wonderful.
Thank you, I’m so glad you plumbed its depth. I look forward to reading your entry.
Yeah, what they said. Love this: clamped my ears
pantomimed an oh
My weekly entry in English: http://charleslmashburn.wordpress.com/2011/09/04/blood-on-the-moon-2/
Thanks for the laugh Charles; I’ll come read your entry.
Road Kill what a great title for this wonderful poem filled with such thought and so well written.
http://gatelesspassage.com/2011/09/04/haggle-baggily/#comment-427
Thank you, it’s always nice to have you visit. I look forward to reading your entry.
The strongest line for me?… how could they hear my lament…
One with the ability to see often feels frustrated by the fact that others do not.
Very true, I’ve added the notes if you’re interested. Thank you Kim for stopping by and commenting.
def love the strong voice that cries out there in the middle…if they don’t give a fuck
about the preventable destruction
how could they hear my lament?
you blend a great ref in there biblically as well…
pour concrete in my eyes…nice line too..
Thanks Brian, I was a bit frustrated (nah, really) when I wrote this on Sunday. I deeply appreciate your continued engagement and all you and the team at dVerse do for poets!
What a mental feast, even with the poison in some of the individual dishes. Perhaps because of it. Thanks so much for taking the time to add your notes here–the way you define is much better and more personally congruent with your poem than a cold online dictionary would have been. Lamia is a rich keynote here, I’m surprised she doesn’t turn up more as she is such a symbol of mothering gone awry. I love the frustrated feel to the middle, “why do *I* have to preach this unwanted, unwelcome gospel?” and the quotations from Mark very illuminative here, but my favorite lines come in the beginning three stanzas and the final wrap which ties it all up so neatly–very satisfying ending lines. An excellent poem, Anna.
Lamia really struck me for this poem and provided the framework I was looking for without overwhelming the other things I felt I needed to say (I hope). Yes, you’ve captured exactly my feeling there in the middle! You’ve pulled out my favorites too. Thank you for your understanding and most of all for being such an amazing host for OLN, can’t wait to make the rounds!
Wow…so deep. I love coming to visit here, as your poetry is so thought provoking. I also love the comments you receive @Janet Hawtin ..just ‘wow’ … both deserve to be re-read a few times! Wonderful..
Thanks Louise, I loved your poem for OLN. I’m am very fortunate to have great readers like you that always add so much to the conversation. I hope to write work that stimulates discussion so it’s so exciting when it does. It’s always wonderful to see you here, thanks for the visit.
powerful lines here anna…if they don’t give a fuck
about the preventable destruction
how could they hear my lament?…was my fav i think…yes….
Thanks Claudia, I’m not prone to cussing but sometimes there really is no other word – though you use it better than I do :).
You certainly cover a vast swathe of space and time here Anna… but as ever, there are firm handholda along the way… second and third stanzas fine examples. The emotional heart was here for me:
if they don’t give a fuck
about the preventable destruction
how could they hear my lament?
…and ‘athwart’ has a power beyond its size… with the ‘rusty halberds’ it provides great texture.
Bracing (in the best possible way!)
Thanks Becky, I always appreciate your feedback. My biggest weakness in all my arts is trying to say so much in a little space. Years of grant writing where I had to do that (federal grants have character limits!) hasn’t helped :). So glad the handholds are firm, it’s important to me. Always enjoy your visits and loved your poem.
This one gripped from start to finish.
I never knew that chainsaw term.
I like the Bible verses, those give me hope. Thank you.
Thanks Jannie, gripping is a great compliment. I look forward to reading your offering after I get back from work.
wow. so powerful, even without the definitions and explanation i could feel the meaning, though they were welcomed to sate my curiosity.
love the pour concrete in my eyes, but also this:
“sharp crack of violent intent
rustling crash
the forest felled
thick rubber crushes
the squirrel’s spine”
Oh, that’s so good to know. I look forward to reading your poem soon :).
hey anna – its called road kill and your assaulting your own eyes with chainsaws – no need for me to elaborate here I LOVE IT!
That may be your shortest comment ever. So happy you’re happy :).
This is good work you’ve done – here’s mine: http://www.image-verse.com/clown
Very scary Rob – those clowns.
Anna—
Mad props for your word choices, very eloquent articulateness flowing throughout this thought provoking piece .
loved your use of ‘zoonosis’!
stellar… every line was a delight to read.
Thanks Christi, I’m so happy you loved zoonosis (we’re friends from way back in college, I’ve waited that long to find the right poem for it – next challenge is to find a home for epizooitic). I look forward to reading your poem.
Wow, what a fabulous piece of writing, I’d call it engineering but don’t want you to think it an insult. But, you’ve packed so much into this, it’s an amazing read and then to add the explanations of what everything is adds to it’s impact on the reader.. all I can say again is.. I am wow-ed
Thanks, engineering wouldn’t feel like an insult to me. I appreciate your visits!
Anna, greatly enjoy the way of your work. The attention you put in each line, the detailed search for the perfect word is beyond anything one could hope for. Even if the words are not known the way the words sound aloud is enough, but then you provide meaning for those who do not know, and in such you teach too. Excellent write and thanks for the words and time it took:)
Thank you, I am glad you enjoy the specificity of the vocabulary, it’s very important to me. The poem was written quickly, it’s the research and notes that take time so thanks for the acknowledgment.
The two lines about the eyes jump out at me…the concrete and the chain saw. Another amazing poem, Anna. You put so many seemingly disparate things together and it all comes together to create something cohesive and striking.
Thank you, your poem was really emotionally potent. I have to take a little break now to breathe.
The descriptions of pouring concrete into the eyes and taking a chainsaw to the eyes, ugh. I feel that desperation to move beyond memories embedded in the mind. No clawing at the eye can remove them. The whole piece is filled with power. Well done.
Thank you Lori, I enjoyed sharing your poem this evening. Those pernicious memories haunt – I remember when I was a child and didn’t know dried chilies where hot, I touched my eyes and they swelled and crusted shut. I woke up in the middle of night pulling out my eyelashes in a panic, trying to get my eyes open. It’s always been a powerful image for me. I appreciate your visits and comments very much.
i think perhaps chilli is never safe to touch?
i burn myself.
in dr who there is a character called river or pond
and she is deadly and loving it seems a similar
paradox. scary like some systemic destiny.
what is safe?
she sits on the curved bow of the sophia celeste.
an ocean of words ripples with harmonic unrest.
it is still a deadly pond. she rocks, eyes closed,
waiting.
… loving. It seems…
Yes, the only humane response :).
This is a wonderful piece of writing. I like how you tied everything together. It feels as though there are multiple stories being told, yet they all have a central focal point. I also like how you included notes and definitions at the end. I’ve never seen that done before.
-Steve
Thank you, yes I often tell many stories in one poem but see clear connecting points. Nice to meet you, I look forward to reading your poem.
Until now, I had not run into another poet that wrote about road kill. I did once, myself. This is vivid, matter of fact and incredibly thought provoking. Endings are beginnings. Humans aren’t particular about the endings they create, are they?
Beth
It doesn’t seem so, no. The matter of fact tone is part of how I call attention to the issues so I greatly appreciate you caught that and shared it with me. Thanks Beth, by the way my middle name is Elizabeth.
WOW! Who need roadkill could be taken and made into such a thought provoking piece. Brillantly written. The intersecting stories, play well off of one another and come together really well. And the descriptions were masterfully done, enjoyed how you gave an explanation of everything in your piece as well, I like to see where it comes from. Very well done!
Thank you Pat for a lovely compliment. Thought provoking is important to me and I’m happy to hear you enjoy the notes.
“No, here it plays out” I love the active voice. Also the way you bring so many diverse elements and concepts (and sources) into a thoughtful and thought-provoking work. Well done.
Yes, the active voice seemed important here and initially was the only section but in revision I made the entire piece present tense. Thank you Steve for your visit and comment.
Anna..for me this expresses the collision between powerful emotion (in memory and present) and powerful intellect, and the point where this can be a transformative ‘moment’, or not, your art leads a transformative arc…thank you for sharing with such depth..
Yes, art is always a positive transformation for me, an integral part of the healing process, and how I understand that integration of intellect and emotion as you’ve so aptly captured it. Thank you velvetinapurrs!
Paved paradise, meet parking lot jeremiad … it’s hard to grasp the pathos out of all the abstraction, but you do throw a gold coin in here and there. (I loved the “fin de siècle kerfs/
with rusty halberds” without having a clue how they fit into the conceit, and the historical bits of pavement-hammered squirrel and brother peppered the brew with some pathos before going into high conceptual boil.) The notes I guess are helpful, though I never bothered with the ones in “Wasteland.” I’d rather read notes on your process, since again the whirl kept throwing me off like a bareback filly. Whoa girl. Completely off-topic and relatively unimportant style notes: Is the post’s flush-left to the edge of the blog intentional? It would be a bit more readable if you indented the copy some, leaving some air to the left. – Brendan
Brendan, I’ll send you an e-mail re: process notes and response to your comment.
Thanks for the clarification – glad we’re cool :).
Goodness, this one comes with its own encyclopedia! But for all the gamut of things running through it, I’d say it’s deserving…emotional power, intelligent and diverse in the engagement of its voice. Vivid descriptions and a powerful piece throughout…I’ve no critique. It’s good stuff.
Thanks Chris, glad to know the power came across.
the pour concrete in my eye line jumped off the page at me. definitely somethings you don’t want to have seen and then the one about attacking your eyes with chainsaws being the only way to clear your sight – another powerful, concrete image that drove your message home for me.
Memories, especially those which are gruesome, are so ingrained within us. i was just discussing this with a friend about something that happened to me as a child. I can see and feel the details as if they happened this morning. I wish I remembered the good events in the same way. Guess the survival instinct has its priorities when it comes to memory 🙂
Me too, since they can now treat PTSD with the assistance of virtual reality I think we may one day find a way. At least we have positive memory bias distortion to look foward to as we age :).
Interesting. To me, the piece seems to be mostly about the question of responsibility. If you saw something potentially destructive or potentially so, are you also the one responsible for telling people about it and being the one to have to try to try to stop it? It seems like the narrator has spotted something destructive and horrible and is unconvinced that it is not a problem; there’s a reluctance to speak up against it. “Why should I be the one? if they don’t give a fuck…” The narrator feels that it’s useless if others don’t seem to care about it. So, why me?
Yet it has already infected the narrator’s mind and would only grow intensity. The reference to the virus — the severity is that it will spread, and overtake. The last few lines, the narrator seems still fighting with himself (or herself), it would take so much to remove either seeing it or seeing what to do about it.
I’m always one who cannot help but speak out, and in the manner too blunt and to the point for most. So yeah, sometimes I just wish I wasn’t the one who saw it. 😀
I so hear you on this interpretation Ravenblack, I too have often had to be the one to speak out and end an abuse. In one situation 8 other women came to me and were all too afraid to confront the abuser but I took the action that led to his removal. In another case there were 17 people harmed and I came along and shouted out the truth, he was harder to remove and did infinitely more damage but eventually karma caught up with him. I too sometimes wish I wasn’t the one. I always appreciate your thoughtful and thought provoking comments. I read your poem where the comments were disabled. That’s a wonderful idea for personal pieces, good for you setting boundaries with that! If I ever post anything that deeply personal I’ll have to use what I learned from you.
I’m glad in both cases, it worked out in the end. Glad to hear that karma does indeed catch up with those who seem to disregard the consequences of treating others badly.
As of the personal post. I thought I’d save people the agony of having to say something on it. Just kidding a little. 🙂 Just didn’t seem appropriate to want comments on it as a piece of work I reckon.
your words inspire…
Greetings:
We are celebrating one year anniversary, wish to say thank you for the support in the past year, it would be a delight to have you share a piece of poetry with us today , any poems, old or new are welcome…Please feel free to join us and get some feedback!
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Cheers….
Jingle Poetry Community
xoxox