Wednesday, June 29, 2011

I Can Fly


























You found me
earthbound
picked me up
nurtured timid buds

kissed, coaxed
until they bloomed
into wings spread
wide enough to soar

But I am not the angel
you say I am

I am only a bird
not sedentary
enough to resist
the urge to migrate

passing every toadstool
and tree stump
in a passionate flyway
to your longitude

loving a season
until the next
staying until the air
bears just a hint of cool



Tess Kincaid
June 2011




image:  Endeavor, Lino Tagliapietra, Columbus Museum of Art

76 comments:

  1. beautiful confessional and invocation

    I would love to see the installation.

    Best wishes
    Isabel

    ReplyDelete
  2. I'm sure you ARE that angel, but a sedentary one also.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Oh to be able to fly Tess - through the ages man has longed to do this. Maybe birds similarly long to be able to wander about as we do.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Love the perserverance of this..the feeling of going on and on!!

    ReplyDelete
  5. Beautiful, Tess... I love the first two stanzas.

    ReplyDelete
  6. ...there is a fervent feeling of sadness and joy between those lines... and your title for me is quite intriguing... i must read it deeper the second time... thanks for the photo prompt this week.(:

    Brightest blessings!

    ~Kelvin

    ReplyDelete
  7. Tess, this is simply beautiful ... love 'passing every toadstool and tree stump' ... reality infused with fantasy.

    ReplyDelete
  8. Dear Tess: "I Can Fly" too after reading this spirited flight.
    Love the lines;

    kissed, coaxed
    until they bloomed

    Send off reminds me how to nuture like a flower, a child. And we are all children!

    ReplyDelete
  9. your words always cause my soul to sing...amazing.

    ReplyDelete
  10. I really like this - the flights of fancy.

    Here's my Magpie: Afloat

    ReplyDelete
  11. Love the way how it takes me into a another world, like I'm seeing the bird that is flying, or better yet, feeling how the little creature does feel.

    ReplyDelete
  12. layers and layer of the poem mirroring the layers of tagliapietra's amazing piece!

    ReplyDelete
  13. Kind of a longing feeling to it for me. Really good! Fly now...

    ReplyDelete
  14. Soul flights, heart journey,
    paean to the spiritual energy
    of the the universe, turning
    dream wings into emotional
    volition; like the lines:
    /when the air bears just
    a hint of cool/, though it
    looks a little odd your
    winged creature in red
    woolies.

    ReplyDelete
  15. Glenn, yes, a bird with a huge wingspan and red woolly socks. If you ever see one, you'll know it's me.

    ReplyDelete
  16. Really beautiful, loved the reference to not being an angel.

    ReplyDelete
  17. I am afraid I am so sedentary, I could never lift off. I love your poem.

    ReplyDelete
  18. Love this "But I am not the angel
    you say I am". We both were thinking angels and birds today : )

    ReplyDelete
  19. "...staying until the the air bears just a hint of cool..."

    I love the varied meanings that this line speaks and lends to the poem itself!

    Rick

    ReplyDelete
  20. wonderful as always.
    and I'm so in awe . you have brevity, depth,
    earthly
    soaring
    and inspirational abilities.

    ReplyDelete
  21. into wings wide enough to soar - yes, I like it very much.

    ReplyDelete
  22. if one had wings, i think it'd be very easy to fly away.

    i'll bet that's a nice art museum you've got there, huh?

    ReplyDelete
  23. Dear Tess, I just wanted you to know that your poem is the inspiration for my latest mag 71 post. Somehow the moment I read yours the poem rushed in my mind as one whole piece. Thanks for all the encouragement.I love your poems.

    ReplyDelete
  24. Some lovely lines here, Tess--well done, as always.

    ReplyDelete
  25. Of course you can fly, Ms. Tess.
    No longer earthbound
    but like
    the multichromed butterfly
    you take leave
    and rise.

    ReplyDelete
  26. Is there any ONE of us who does not have the urge to 'fly-the-coop' on occasion?

    And some of us Peeps GET to do just that, but it takes a certain will power to simply trot off into the blue sky. I know. I have flown.

    Love your poetry, Tess Kincaid! I believe you ARE that angel--grin!

    ReplyDelete
  27. Hi Tess, I really love this image and would love to know if it is of a painting or what it is. I did a bit of change to it on my post. I very much enjoyed your poem. I can see it may be fishing lours, by your take on the bird. Have a great week. :)

    ReplyDelete
  28. beautiful--your poetry and the work in that order-c

    ReplyDelete
  29. I just found you through Vicki Archer blog, what a treat for me!

    ReplyDelete
  30. I love this. Love for a season until the air turns cool. Unable to resist the urge to migrate. Nourished until you spread your wings to fly. This tells a bitter sweet story.

    ReplyDelete
  31. Birds are some of my favorite creatures. And you have well conveyed their sense of sweetness.

    ReplyDelete
  32. This is exceptional Tess so raw and honestly I love it!

    ReplyDelete
  33. So lovely, Tess. I can feel the rhythm and the need to move!

    ReplyDelete
  34. 'loving a season
    until the next' captures the essence of a capricious, whimsical being - or just one governed by instinct.

    ReplyDelete
  35. I am trying to fly too. The weather is making it so much easier! Great post, Lori

    ReplyDelete
  36. This is one of my favorites of our many wonderful poems. Kudos!

    ReplyDelete
  37. A butterfly, here today and gone tomorrow. Ephemeral and fleeting, like so many of the most beautiful sights on earth.

    ReplyDelete
  38. wonderful images. it feels like a love poem.

    ReplyDelete
  39. tess i am caught inside these words:
    "I am only a bird
    not sedentary
    enough to resist
    the urge to migrate"...

    oh my!! steven

    ReplyDelete
  40. love the imagery of this post ~

    best line is:

    But I am not the angel you say I am

    Nice to meet you~

    ReplyDelete
  41. Thanks for posting this picture. I have been searching for something like that for a long time. It speaks of me... With a little twist as Rick commented on my post...

    Love ur interpretation!

    JJRod'z

    ReplyDelete
  42. well written well read well struck well deep well done

    ReplyDelete
  43. Hmm! The image makes me think of Maple seeds with their golden wing, or the almost transparent winged Hogweed seeds both just waiting for that right moment to let go...Cheers!

    ReplyDelete
  44. A lot of delicate, beautiful phrases in here!

    ReplyDelete
  45. It's in all of us, I am sure: the desire to fly. We dream and have fantasies about it. The poem puts it well. It's strong and clear.

    ReplyDelete
  46. How difficult to separate the person from the Beloved; to distinguish angel wing from proletarian bicep and forearm. Ditto all the other equipage, especially the heart, which is not a heaven or the deep blue sea another person can take residence in (or worse, try to take home and put on a shelf with the other bras and shoes one has connived to possess. Yes, the speaker can fly, but only for a certain distance and time. What is life and love but migration isle to isle of our hearts' great main? Lovely work, Tess. - Brendan

    ReplyDelete
  47. Your words are always beautiful.

    Anna :o]

    ReplyDelete
  48. "...a feather on the breath of God.." as the abbess Hildegarde von Bingen said.

    ReplyDelete
  49. You can fly...and you've taken us with you, Tess. Wonderful stuff!

    ReplyDelete
  50. I am so enjoying your work and interacting with you, Tess. I'd be interested in reviewing Patina on my blog-- let me know. xxxj

    ReplyDelete
  51. Jen, of course, I would be delighted for you to review Patina. Thank you, dear friend!

    ReplyDelete
  52. I love the picture! They are like balloon hammocks. Like sketches of birds, but not one of the same feather!

    Every wild creature should wander. It is not a character flaw! And we were born wild, though many of us do our best to self-domesticate.

    :-)

    ReplyDelete
  53. To fly, oh, yes! An exciting read...

    ReplyDelete
  54. Lovely tess.. I always enjoy reading your poetry

    ReplyDelete
  55. Thank you so much, everyone, for your lovely comments. I have the best readers in the blogosphere. The best. xo

    ReplyDelete
  56. Tess Ma'am,
    How beautiful it is to soar over the skies.The brilliant colors and more so your accompanying soliloquy is most mesmerising and it just lingers on.

    ReplyDelete
  57. This is open to so many interpretations; and a sense of both relief and regret.
    :)

    ReplyDelete
  58. This is open to so many interpretations; and a sense of both relief and regret.
    :)

    ReplyDelete
  59. Great poem, Tess.... am dying to know what that is a picture of. What are those things?

    ReplyDelete
  60. Each line exquisitely crafted. Sometimes I want to be in your head!

    ReplyDelete

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