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Rest, in places
by Shirin SwiftMy curves are not made for the grave,
i want to drag her closer to the compost heap
she'd not resist, dressed uninnocently in rage & insouciance;
the unmatched Agapanthus of her frame melts without wasting
a drop, i too would wish to melt before i undress understanding,
agape with ease and frostless efficiency,
fool my body to wear lithe shreds.
Before the naked bell of sparrows, a train treads;
they call the cold hours to worship at heaven's starless hearth
the siren takes away their moving songs, their glowing faces.
My elbows renounce my body, lean out over warm river stone
rather than a womb, doubled over, carrying rest;
i bury commotion in the wind; chain anger to water,
reject dexterous medicines so that i may be central
to my own ritual of flower dissections,
define my own place of conversions.
Fill up on a diet of streets and cling to other damp beings
for summer's seeds have left the tongue
and are parachuting now over some French border.
Tusks of light shine through the Camphors
pain is green at the road's end;
a rattlesnake flame older than Aloes and Acacia, has
left, me 11/24/2006 Author's Note: Just another conversation with my self; there was a music room at school that used to double as a place for prayer and conversions during recess, it keeps coming back to haunt me, and i wonder what happened to all the converts
Posted on 11/24/2006
Copyright © 2024 Shirin Swift
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Kathleen Wilson on 11/25/06 at 12:40 AM Passionate and rich with botanical lushness. The agapanthus (fr. Greek "agape" and "anthus") deeply resonant, and the healing aloe, too. I want to live in this verse, on the edge of life. It has an ultimate feeling as it must, that being its topic, and it flows from most intimate to universal human experience. The parachuting seeds extend far into allusion. The title is suggestive and has overtones, the ending perfect, and especially set alone. Really, a poem one can return to over and over. My mother was born near the Nile (another name Lily of the Nile for agapanthus, she loves the flower and the name, as she loves blue too.) Those bell shaped separate openings, bells, (connecting to the sparrow image too) are so effective for their "lithe shreds". Also your autor's note brought to mind a music room that was special to me at one college I went to, set aside for quietness and listening to records, and my thoughts bloomed there too. |
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