"dazzle gradually"

"Dazzle Gradually" 2016 poems, paintings, new art & photography--a diary, a discipline, a delight. Read over my shoulder as I post my unedited poetry ---you can see it in the raw.


Polly Alice

Sunday, April 4, 2010

Egg Moon

Poems are not just a stream of images  they have to connect.  I never get tired of finding ways to paste these images into relationship with each other.  When I do this, I find out:
1.  Who is the voice?
2.  Who is the voice speaking to?
3.  Who is the voice becoming?
Here is an Easter poem of sorts that I altered to make each image connect to another.  (The  painting is by A. Pinkham Ryder.)  Some people call this a Dream Landscape poem.  Of course, I think it is a collage.

Egg Moon

It's Easter at 4:24 am.
The sky is the bruise.
blinding the whistling train,
muffling the baby's cry,
hushing the wind who knocks at the door,
keeping company a lone bird chirping in the yard,
sliding beneath the hurrying moon.

The moon, broken like an egg
is just like me, another Humpty Dumpty
shattered by her pride
her mouth o'd in surprise
as she lies stunned on the black ground.

If I could turn back this twisted tea table
to the one square on the board that lead here,
I'd sew up the tear that lead to this hole,
But how much thread would it take
to stitch a thousand days?

No.  I will go forward.
I will let the past blow away
like so many bits of egg shell.
I will step out of this broken coat,
and run around in my bare little yoke.
Yes, a shell-free life will be more dangerous.
But it's better than always
worrying that I will get broken.

It's Easter, and so I will
get up and give you a basket
of eggs.  Please remember,
I'm glad we always visit Wonderland
together.  Next time,
we'll go back when we're more awake--
and let's take the elevator
instead of this hole.

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