Monday, August 1, 2011

libra



Nailed down
beside the road

wind turbines
stand motionless

hot with rows
of utility poles

limp American flag
such a prisoner as I

pass the brewery
air heavy in hops

empty beer cans
last night's vodka

along the way
I see your face

imagine myself
on a plane lifting  

above the dull
I walk in the door

pull on the fan
and exhale




Tess Kincaid
July, 2011




Recorded by the lovely R.A.D. Stainforth.  Check out his excellent blog, Black Dogs.

image:  Skip Hunt




To join Magpie Tales creative writing group click here.

56 comments:

  1. The old abandoned relics along along the road do seem trapped in another time. They are stuck, whereas we are able to fly above the dull. I, too, often walk in the door and exhale after a long day. Ah, the comfort of home.

    ReplyDelete
  2. tess there's a passage america is undergoing and it's holding on so tightly to the past that in retrospect seemed so clean and uncluttered and good and best of all promising. the abundance of decay and deterioration in the streets and especially on the little back roads undercuts the dream. my advice, my wish for america is ... be patient, stay the course, shape the dream with the hands of your hearts. steven

    ReplyDelete
  3. ... pull on the fan and exhale.

    Wonderful imagery, Tess!

    ReplyDelete
  4. Exhaling is good, but only if we can also inhale, and there are too many times when we'd rather not.

    —Kay, Alberta, Canada

    ReplyDelete
  5. I like the circle you completed with the turbines in the beginning and the fan at the end. Well done!

    ReplyDelete
  6. i love what ladycat said... so true...the comfort of home

    amen

    kary and teddy
    xx

    ReplyDelete
  7. willow,
    It's hot here too.
    rel

    ReplyDelete
  8. Onerous, stifling, prickly, sultry
    and nothing moving on the earth
    but you, gliding home, sucking
    in that dead heated air, feeling
    the hair stick to the back of
    your neck, imprisoned by the
    A/C in the rover, like Marilyn
    opening that fridge in SEVEN
    YEAR ITCH; and there's more,
    as your sweaty ride allows
    you to miss a loved one, so
    far away; and there you are
    alone, overheated, cranky.
    and poetic. Love the lines:
    /limp American flag such
    a prisoner as I/ then shifting
    to an action; first the personal,
    then the movement, pushing
    against the oppressive heat
    like a chicken with clipped
    wings longing to escape
    the coop.

    ReplyDelete
  9. "pull on the fan and exhale." Love that.

    ReplyDelete
  10. Tess -- I could ude one of those old fans during this summer heat -- barbara

    ReplyDelete
  11. "Last night's vodka" - that sealed it for me. Excellent, Ms. Kincaid.

    Mine, on the other hand, will have to wait for Tuesday. I'm not quite settled on what I wrote!

    ReplyDelete
  12. For some bizarre reason I had a Elizabeth Taylor changing her stockings in a scene from A Cat On A Hot Tin Roof pop into my head!..Brill!

    ReplyDelete
  13. "Maybe if I took the little fan, put it in the icebox, then left the icebox door open, then left the bedroom door open, and soak the sheets and pillowcase in ice water... no, that's too icky!"

    Marilyn Monroe, "The Seven Year Itch"


    "What is the victory of a cat on a hot tin roof?—I wish I knew... Just staying on it, I guess, as long as she can..."

    Elizabeth Taylor, "Cat on a Hot Tin Roof"

    ReplyDelete
  14. Aaaand That's why it popped into my head!..Well done mate!

    ReplyDelete
  15. whew...thanks for the relief from the heat there at the end...love the textures of this as you build the scene...

    ReplyDelete
  16. Your poem brought back thoughts of the house hold fan of my youth. It was a big old thing which could be pointed in any direction....pointing at the ceiling was the best way. We would stand over it and let the air puff out our clothes, cooling our hot skin. Later we kids would get our faces really close and say AHHHHHH into the blowing air just to hear the way it would distort out voices. You just can't get the same effect with an air conditioner.

    ReplyDelete
  17. Steviewren, I love your fan memories, they are so much like my own!

    ReplyDelete
  18. That sent a gust of stale hot air across the Atlantic this early morning. I wish I had the skill to send a cool breeze back to you.

    ReplyDelete
  19. ..i like the feeling of those lines.. ease the discomfort circling around… the path t’wards the end is exquisite especially the line ‘bout seeing someone. Have a nice sleep. (:

    ~Kelvin

    ReplyDelete
  20. How can something so simple, lines so brief, words so short, be not only beautiful but imbued with the ability to stop an old fool like me in my tracks? Only you know Tess.

    ReplyDelete
  21. Not enough exhale to make the fan go round...shucks.

    ReplyDelete
  22. FABULOUS!! i so feel that great lakes area sigh going out.....
    remember when: we were so looking forward to summer's green?
    hmmmmmm......
    careful, enough already!

    ReplyDelete
  23. The kind of landscape we can't get past...home, and sweet tea, maybe...love this!

    ReplyDelete
  24. Stifling my breathing, your poem oozed sweltering and gritty into my chest cavity Tess, puddling salty... I know you're boiling in the buckeye state, my in-laws live close by you there..

    ReplyDelete
  25. Great evocation in picture and words of the weather.

    ReplyDelete
  26. I love the sound and feel of a whirring fan although here in Phoenix, it must be accompanied by an air conditioner :)

    ReplyDelete
  27. Terrific, as ever, Tess. Those blades.... this photo so totemic/resonant for me as a Westerner-- I live blocks from several feed mills and know the windmills on the horizon well. xxj

    ReplyDelete
  28. I have memories of no a/c and fans in windows. So steamy here lately. I love the libra sense of balance here in this poem...lovely, Tess!

    ReplyDelete
  29. I really like the first six lines.

    ReplyDelete
  30. Tess,
    Abandoned metal relics can be an eyesore but a feature of art when viewed by poets. How nice!

    ReplyDelete
  31. Kincaid, this, and your "Abandoned America" pics, remind me of a poem by Edward Thomas:

    Tall nettles cover up, as they have done
    These many springs, the rusty harrow, the plough
    Long worn out, and the roller made of stone:
    Only the elm butt tops the nettles now.

    This corner of the farmyard I like most:
    As well as any bloom upon a flower
    I like the dust on the nettles, never lost
    Except to prove the sweetness of a shower.

    ReplyDelete
  32. R.A.D., the Thomas is lovely, and fits with my photo series so nicely. Thank you.

    ReplyDelete
  33. Seriously, is there any way better to end a poem than with the word 'exhale'?
    I loved the imagry you put in here.

    ReplyDelete
  34. Talking of exhaling, Tess, I held my breath throughout.

    ReplyDelete
  35. I can so relate to turning on the fan and exhaling. It's supposedly 88 degrees outside, but it feels like 200 half the time :)

    ReplyDelete
  36. I Have No Plume

    I have no answer for exhaling
    no plume to call Valerie
    i only see Bridgeport factories
    and sad liberations
    of nothingness
    ridiculed by the sun
    the rain came
    without water yesterday
    what were we to do
    because the time to answer had expired
    and we had our mouths closed
    like a drum skin
    at dawn.

    ReplyDelete
  37. This says heat and tired to me. Nice piece.

    ReplyDelete
  38. Anonymous, a sad, but beautiful write. Thank you.

    ReplyDelete
  39. I have read and reread and reread this poem because each time, I see something else that I missed previously. I did not miss at anytime though the passing of the brewery where the air was heavy in hops - I know that aroma well - in London I once lived near a famous brewery which I drove past regularly. This wonderful piece of writing brought it all back to me along with hostile heat.

    ReplyDelete
  40. You create the mood and feel wonderfully. I'm going to stand in front of a fan now!

    ReplyDelete
  41. Very evocative poem. I love the images and mise-en-scene, leaving the reader free to inject their own action.

    ReplyDelete
  42. the heat rises and settles. nice work...

    ReplyDelete
  43. There's a potent sense of atmosphere and place here. It's the more telling in the wake of the sultry weather we've just been having!

    ReplyDelete
  44. a wonderful story, and an insightful one, as usual. Makes one think.

    ReplyDelete
  45. Your poem is wonderful, I truly enjoyedit!:)

    ReplyDelete
  46. I have missed coming here to sit and visit and see the pictures your words always beautifully convey! This one speaks of freedom to me....amazing as always Tess!
    :-)

    ReplyDelete
  47. Thank you for your kind and encouraging comment, gentle readers. I know, I always say this, but you really are the best.

    ReplyDelete
  48. all the abandoned used up items along a barn or in the farmland.
    Great image and wonderful poem.

    ReplyDelete
  49. We have an old 12' tin man who still stands along the road waving to people driving by. He used to move from place to place without warning. If he disappeared from one site we would wonder where we was going to show up next! Thanks.

    ReplyDelete
  50. You express shrinking the world to the manageable well as you 'walk in the door, pull on the fan and exhale'. Let's pretend that is reality. Maybe we need to.

    ReplyDelete
  51. Ah, a wind turbine...and the connection to the fan at the end...brilliant! (I couldn't make head nor tail of this one, so glad others could) Really like the "stickiness" of this--in time, in heat, and then relief. Thank you.

    ReplyDelete

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