I balk at gestation,
swallow
stagnant,
rear
back, eyes wild
as
a startled horse.
Maybe
I'm hungry,
or
just thirsty,
or
the stars are tossed
like
a handful of jacks.
Your
kitchen seabirds,
content
in their flowers,
hang
as a reminder
not
to gallop,
that
hope is a thing―
so
coo, forage frequently,
toss
in a couple of clams
and
call it chowder.
tk/March 2013
Thanks to the talented R.A.D. Stainforth for reading this poem.
 |
| Faun, Horse, and Bird, 1936 Pablo Picasso |
That hope is a thing
ReplyDeleteI like that.
Hope is a beautiful thing !!!
ReplyDeleteI see him hungry and ready to forage...nice images in the kitchen!
ReplyDelete...well that emptiness or rather craving for something is really quite hard to define at times Tess... i like that you used kitchen seabirds here... and ah, what an elegant read again... i particularly like how Mr. R.A.D. delivered the part that says 'i'm hungry...' & how he delivered the last two lines without a single break but in just a plain intonation... stunning & it def. adds value to your poem.... smiles...
ReplyDeleteThank you Kelvin...I'm very fortunate to have the talented Mr. Stainforth read my work...and the rich dimension he adds...
Deletelove your stars tossed like jacks....xx
ReplyDeleteMy you are cooking up startling mood and I love the verse with tossing a handful of jacks!
ReplyDeleteHope is so vital. Great words.
ReplyDeleteyour poetry is so visual- love stars tossed like jacks. Happy week to you!
ReplyDeleteReally like this, Tess (although not a fan of chowder, always encouraging hope). This line especially stands out to me:
ReplyDeletethe stars are tossed
like a handful of jacks.
or the stars are tossed
ReplyDeletelike a handful of jacks.
Your kitchen seabirds,
content in their flowers,
hang as a reminder
not to gallop,
Such vibrant images- right here- hope is written in the seabird's song.
Definitely like the last stanza. Just toss it in the chowder.
ReplyDeletenice one Tess.....it is all about hope indeed
ReplyDeleteSuperb write Tess, just superb.
ReplyDeleteAnna :o]
stars like a handful of jacks. wonderful. the reference to Emily D: hope and feathers. unusual images brought together in this poem and i too need a reminder not to gallop.
ReplyDeleteTess, have they started sending out your book? Wasnt it March first???
Finishing Line Press usually runs a little late...I'm expecting UNPRESSED any day now...your FLP postcard arrived at WM...looks nice Suki...
Deletethis is the first time i noticed the ticking of the clock in the video
ReplyDeleteLove the ticking clock...it adds a charming ambiance...
DeleteReally liked the way you unpeeled your words on that.Impeccable hidden rhythms brought alive by the reading.
ReplyDeleteThank you...always try to choose words that play well together...they jump to life with Stainforth's reading...
Delete"Stars tossed like a handful of jacks"...love that, and all the rest!
ReplyDeleteor the stars are tossed
ReplyDeletelike a handful of jacks.
Magic!
Hope is not just "a" thing, but THE thing! Well penned, Tess!
ReplyDeleteCoo
ReplyDeleteKerouac looked up from his bongo drums
and nodded
Your finest hour, Tess.
Hope is the thing with fathers...
ReplyDeleteLovely! The alliteration was subtle and helped to make the point. Maybe we can all forage frequently.
ReplyDeleteSometimes your images are just sooo arresting!
ReplyDeleteCall it chowder is a great close! Waiting for your book to arrive .... hopefully soon.
ReplyDeleteand I forgot to say...thank you soooo much for ordering my book. you are a dear.
ReplyDeleteSimply succinctly superior!
ReplyDeleteI think Picasso saw stars and clam chowder as intmately related, spot on, Tess !
ReplyDeleteNever give up on hope!
ReplyDeleteOh yes, and never give up on chowder!
ReplyDeleteStellar!
ReplyDelete"The stars are tossed like a handful of jacks..." I so love that line! Hope is a beautiful (and feathered) thing, indeed.
ReplyDelete