bloodteethandflame

A life in threes

Tag: sometimes I just need poetry

Poetry: I need…a red dress.

BY KIM ADDONIZIO

I want a red dress.

I want it flimsy and cheap,

I want it too tight, I want to wear it

until someone tears it off me.

I want it sleeveless and backless,

this dress, so no one has to guess

what’s underneath. I want to walk down

the street past Thrifty’s and the hardware store

with all those keys glittering in the window,

past Mr. and Mrs. Wong selling day-old

donuts in their café, past the Guerra brothers

slinging pigs from the truck and onto the dolly,

hoisting the slick snouts over their shoulders.

I want to walk like I’m the only

woman on earth and I can have my pick.

I want that red dress bad.

I want it to confirm

your worst fears about me,

to show you how little I care about you

or anything except what

I want. When I find it, I’ll pull that garment

from its hanger like I’m choosing a body

to carry me into this world, through

the birth-cries and the love-cries too,

and I’ll wear it like bones, like skin,

it’ll be the goddamned

dress they bury me in.

(1954, from Tell Me)

Poetry: Margaret Atwood

Variation on the Word Sleep

I would like to watch you sleeping,
which may not happen.
I would like to watch you,
sleeping. I would like to sleep
with you, to enter
your sleep as its smooth dark wave
slides over my head

and walk with you through that lucent
wavering forest of bluegreen leaves
with its watery sun & three moons
towards the cave where you must descend,
towards your worst fear

I would like to give you the silver
branch, the small white flower, the one
word that will protect you
from the grief at the center
of your dream, from the grief
at the center. I would like to follow
you up the long stairway
again & become
the boat that would row you back
carefully, a flame
in two cupped hands
to where your body lies
beside me, and you enter
it as easily as breathing in

I would like to be the air
that inhabits you for a moment
only. I would like to be that unnoticed
& that necessary.

From Selected Poems II: 1976-1986 by Margaret Atwood (1987).

Tumble Down In Love

Thank you Annie, for sharing your lovely words.

I needed these sweet words today.

~~~~

Tumble Down In Love

Come sweetheart

Come tumble down in love with me

Unveil yourself to this unanswerable desire

That echoes in our hearts

Whirling, in flight let it take us together

Into the velvet night

Where unspoken promises are understood

Whispered to us

Danced upon our acquiescent flesh

This dream is far too sweet

We love passionately

In a thousand different ways

The peaks blaze up against the sky

The petals that flow with our blood

Tremble in full bloom

Tender like water

Our passion runs like oncoming tides

We swim in a sea of stars

I am a bird in song impatient with desire

Your sure fingers sound the strings of my soul

Slowly, you release me

I breathe you in and we fall into dripping colours

At last we lie in sweet repose

Embraced by infinity itself

And so I drown in joy

And drown, and drown

Once more

© Ann Bagnall and AnnieB222.com, 2013.

Image: http://wallpaperwidehd.blogspot.com.au/2014/05/glowing-flowers-wallpaper.html

Source: Tumble Down In Love

Month for Loki, Day 19: Dance.

Let yourself be out of control.

Welcome the crumbling of the walls that you put up.

Wallow in that ecstasy.

Let go of all that you think that you are.

Let go of all that you thought that you were.

None of it works for you anymore.

Would you like to see yourself made new?

I’m here to break things down for you…

Dance with Me!

Month for Loki, Day 15: A Monstrous Manifesto (poetry)

Edited to add: Please note that this poem was not written by me; it was written by the extremely talented sc-fi fantasy author, Cat Valente.  

I had the pleasure of hearing Cat read this poem aloud at a sci-fi fantasy convention quite some time ago.

I’ve always loved this poem, and I thought it perhaps fitting to share with my readers today, as I found it again recently, saved within some of my old LiveJournal files from 2010.

This poem immediately struck me as appropriate in honor of one of Loki’s heiti, Father/Mother of Monsters ❤

~~~~

If you are a monster, stand up.
If you are a monster, a trickster, a fiend,
If you’ve built a steam-powered wishing machine
If you have a secret, a dark past, a scheme,
If you kidnap maidens or dabble in dreams
Come stand by me.

If you have been broken, stand up.
If you have been broken, abandoned, alone
If you have been starving, a creature of bone
If you live in a tower, a dungeon, a throne
If you weep for wanting, to be held, to be known,
Come stand by me.

If you are a savage, stand up.
If you are a witch, a dark queen, a black knight,
If you are a mummer, a pixie, a sprite,
If you are a pirate, a tomcat, a wright,
If you swear by the moon and you fight the hard fight,
Come stand by me.

If you are a devil, stand up.
If you are a villain, a madman, a beast,
If you are a strowler, prowler, a priest,
If you are a dragon come sit at our feast,
For we all have stripes, and we all have horns,
We all have scales, tails, manes, claws and thorns
And here in the dark is where new worlds are born.
Come stand by me.

A poem by Cat Valente

11 October 2010

(Not so) Subtle

This past week has been a rollercoaster of emotions.

And no, I don’t like it that way, and thus, I continue to work on developing more effective coping skills.

As well, I am reminded that it is not selfish to take care of myself when necessary.

But I will get there.

And when I am surfing the web, and I come across pieces like this

http://www.rebellesociety.com/2015/01/09/bring-your-all-to-me/

 

And I am reminded that I am loved, and that there is no shame in asking for help.

 

I am grateful.

 

14 February 2015

Happy Valentines’ Day.

~~~

While I’d actually intended on posting another piece that I’d found a few weeks ago (that I’d been saving to post here today), here is a lovely poem by Mary Oliver that I woke up to find on my RSS feed this morning:

THE FOURTH SIGN OF THE ZODIAC (PART 3)

I know, you never intended to be in this world.
But you’re in it all the same.

So why not get started immediately.

I mean, belonging to it.
There is so much to admire, to weep over.

And to write music or poems about.

Bless the feet that take you to and fro.
Bless the eyes and the listening ears.
Bless the tongue, the marvel of taste.
Bless touching.

You could live a hundred years, it’s happened.
Or not.
I am speaking from the fortunate platform
of many years,
none of which, I think, I ever wasted.
Do you need a prod?
Do you need a little darkness to get you going?
Let me be as urgent as a knife, then,
and remind you of Keats,
so single of purpose and thinking, for a while,
he had a lifetime.

— from Blue Horses, collected poems