Monday, February 15, 2010

taxidermy

The Poetry Bus is once again heading back to the Republic of EEjit.
The ticket for this particular bus must include taxidermy. Since it's
Valentine's weekend, EEj requested an extra dose of love, hate,
passion and angst. The ticket stirred some passion at the manor, but
not in a romantic sort of way.



Taxidermist



I was a doll
behind the sofa
who understood
the meaning of disgrace;

a dusty version of me,
who always looked good,
but had no thoughts,
no skinned knees,

just a row of stitches
where my heart
was removed
and replaced
by a rusty string
in the back of my head,

for an occasional please
or may I have some water?
No childish chatter,
not a thing out of place,
I was better than dead.

Safely mounted
on wood by a Norman Bates,
who without hurting a fly,
made me into a bust
installing glass eyes

so I could not cry,
laugh, or hate and behaved
as all saved
children must.


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willow, 2010
.
.
.
photo from flickr

54 comments:

  1. Oh my. What a neat post. Stuffed animals gives me the creeps.

    Would you want to spend a honeymoon with a dead and stuffed deer on the wall at the foot of the bed?

    I can't imagine that. Not the deer part -- I have trouble with the other part. LOL

    You made my day.

    More snow on the way. We are supposed to get 6 to 9 inches.

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  2. Chilling and strangely visual...but I like it a lot. Kinda twisted, sistah.

    When I was in junior high, I tried taxidermy on a little bird that died when it impacted the window. It came out quite misshapen but the biology teacher still gave extra credit.

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  3. I still have nightmares from the museum of Natural History and all those stuffed critters. This poem is powerful, Willow! Excellent!

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  4. I understood where you were
    the last part brought tears to my eyes..

    yvonne

    Pretty heavy stuff.

    I don't want a kid like Norman

    Hahahahaha

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  5. not crazy about stuffed animals and taxidermy-- I can sort of understand hunting for food---but for trophies? no.
    very deep and moving poem

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  6. Oh, this ran deep and hit a nerve...even to tears...Willow this is well done...taxidermy you say.

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  7. dang. you just blew me away willow...

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  8. NO! This is morbid and full of angst. Who was that doll?
    "a dusty vision of me"

    scary thoughts here!

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  9. This is dark and lovely all at once. And probably my favorite poem I've ever read of yours!

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  10. That sent a chill through me. Eerie.

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  11. Oh Willow, you can sometimes be very, very deep. And very, very moving.

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  12. Shiver, yes, those lines make me think of closing the door to be safe. After silencing the child, they may come after the woman!

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  13. Great poem, totally creepy but cool and sad at the same time. I get kinda creeped out when I see stuffed animals because they used to be alive and it is almost like they are watching you.

    I just do not think I could ever due taxidermy as a job, nope just do not think I could do it. And sometimes there are some dolls that just seem a little too real too.

    It would be very sad to be a doll that was once loved and played with, but then given a place of honor might not be too bad, but it would be lonely.

    God bless.

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  14. I don't understand why anyone would want to stuff an animal - but then there's all sorts of things I do that I am sure others would not want to follow (I can't think what they could be but I am sure there must be some)

    As always a lovely atmospheric poem, willow.

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  15. I liked it! Kind of creepy and strange, like me! LOL!

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  16. Makes me think of the old adage, "Children should be seen and not heard" which is very sad.

    Don't even talk to me about stuffed animals, especially ones that have been shot for trophies!

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  17. Very creepy, strange and enjoyable

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  18. I loved this poem, but I found it very disturbing. Who is the child it refers to I wonder.

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  19. Oh, so creepy, but I LOVE it!

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  20. Oh dear me -- that was seriously creepy. To spend a childhood stuffed with sawdust . . .

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  21. excellent.
    loved how you did this , wow.

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  22. Willow,
    What a sad story…
    Whose soul was hurt that much?
    Lyrical subject can be one of us, your reader or the author herself…
    It’s a beautiful poem!!!
    Virginia

    Ps. Did you find the “Pink Glove Dance” video?

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  23. Sad...children and animals should be free spirited creatures. And I find it so sad when they're spirits are broken to appease someone. Very touching : )

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  24. Wonderful willow! I didn't notice any rule on "taxidermy", but I'm glad you did because this is a compelling, and nightmarish poem (in a good way)! I loved the sense of shame throughout it.

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  25. Very powerfully expressed. Where has the soul of that empty child gone?

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  26. Virginia, please give us the link to the Pink Glove!

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  27. There is a taxidermist down the road from where I live, and I have to say the outside of the shop is rather creepy. After seeing your post, I'm starting to wonder if they all have that Norman Bates feel to them.

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  28. I like 'better than dead'. That's the key right there, right?
    x

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  29. I love the really taut structure. I kept looking for some sort of reconciliation at the end.
    My hopeful interpretation was that the subject of the poem was like this before they were awoken by real love?

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  30. Very good treatment of a harsh, harsh subject. The displacement between the rhymed lines works really well--for instance, between "disgrace" & "replaced" or "knees" & "please." The separation gives them a bit of an echo effect that's very appropriate to the poem.

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  31. That is sad...I feel I need to rescue her.

    I HATE taxidermy! ACK!

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  32. An eerie kind of poem willow - but a lot of food for thought there too. I like it in an odd sort of way.

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  33. This place is lovely!.. and this poem is really juicy.. I love the brilliant images it induced... it reminded me a bit of the wolves in the walls illustrator.. (a kid's picture book) I can't remember his name.. really cool!

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  34. someone said it gave them shivers...


    me too


    happy to stop by and visit with you today, my friend

    kary

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  35. Before we came to the US, our front hall was filled with stuffed heads of animals and birds. Very creepy!

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  36. Better than dead, eh? You are such a powerful poet, Willow. Such a deep passion runs through your work. Wow!

    Reading this I couldn't help but think of you tossing the baby Jesus up in the air over and over again. Sweet.

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  37. i like it...but a little creepy!

    Your poetry is very interesting stuff.

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  38. The link to :Pink Glove Dance" is on my blog.
    I try to write it here but the youtube address is impossible to provide by this side.
    On my blog there is the link and the video. too.
    Virginia

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  39. By the way, you can also google: Pink Glove Dance
    Breast cancer support

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  40. http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,579065,00.html

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  41. I sometimes wonder about this lil' doll behind the couch...or rather under the cushion, not wanting to be disturbed...dreaming away...alone.

    Funny, I think I'm the only one who likes taxidermy...not wanting to waste one bit of the creature my husband was bringing home for food, not trophy, I taught myself the art form and still do it in some form or another today...the creatures are sacred to me and I just honor them for their beauty...sick or not...I have the greatest respect for the sacrifice they made for man.

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  42. Wow Willow, That was fantastic. The imagery you brought was trasformative thruout the piece. Fantastico!!

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  43. I popped over here for some last-thing-at-night inspiration. Now I'm going to leave the light on! You do powerful things with words, Willow.

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  44. Oh, dear. What a sad thing - to be this particular doll. :-(

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  45. Thanks, everyone, I always appreciate your kind comments on my poetry. xx

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  46. This sent a shiver of delight down my spine. Creepy and brilliant!

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  47. A powerful piece of writing. I was reminded of Plath and Lady Lazarus.

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  48. Dominic, thank you so much. I am greatly flattered with that generous compliment!

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  49. perfect. taxidermy was so... problematic! and a great last line!

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  50. One has to wonder about the culture of the hunter. Starting from an early age the idea of "trophy", which really means something was "killed". Very creepy, haunting, sad and scary. Any more adjectives would be expleted. Is this a Stephen King submission?

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Inject a few raisins of conversation into the tasteless dough of existence.
― O. Henry (and me)