Tag Archives: trees
old memories ii
Narcissist’s mirror
reflects a lost phantom
as you fall into it
and find yourself
on the other side.
A dream girl
running naked through the woods
giggling
reflections of your own soul
illuminate the darkness
but taunt you with yesterday.
An unexpected hand
falls on your shoulder
and the desire to turn
and see her face
is so overwhelming
you freeze
afraid of the disappointment.
Trees shatter
and sink
into that deep murkiness
of the place
where old memories go
when they’ve been tucked
away.
– matt at shadow of iris
old memories
a worn-out sigh
A gnarled pine
alone
up on a hill,
rock-rooted
and stretched
athwart an emptiness –
it swings its boughs
to inconsistent blasts of wind
each pause
a yield
a worn-out sigh
before the howl and hiss
begin anew.
– percy at shadow of iris
a worn-out sigh
[Creatively adapted from Percy Bysshe Shelley's Alastor]
murmurs and shrapnel xxxi
In the wee early mornings
on the hottest nights
of that summer that never ended
when everyone on the farm
was fast asleep
the oldest daughter
with her wide blue eyes
and long black hair
would take off every stitch of her clothing
and steal away into the darkness
to a hidden grove
where her secret love awaited;
an amorphous stump
a short twisted form
with thick gnarled roots
and a tiny green eye;
she’d crouch down
and hug that little troll
tenderly
then leaning in
and putting her left ear near
she’d listen to the murmurs,
jumping rope without ropes
playing soccer without goals
praise that falls from lips
as easy as spittle and spit
you let me be
as I fell deeper
down into myself
a thousand voices
and none that cared
each one a babble
a should and a have and a surrender
I’ve been through alien abductors
and old hags
but I’m still waiting
for that gentle touch
and you to say
that I am not
alone.
– matt at shadow of iris
murmurs_and_shrapnel_xxxi
[Inspired by the work of Esao Andrews.]
words
The words emerged suddenly
out of his mouth
as if he were choking on a snake
that had unexpectedly begun
to slither its way out;
there were people standing around
and they clapped
as if it were a grand performance
but he was scarred
and he wanted to scream
or to cry
but instead he continued to choke
on his own words
until they finally fell from him
like little drops of water
onto the dry ground;
the few that struck his feet
felt like tiny ice shards stinging him
then bouncing off;
each word that came to the ground
lay there for a moment
winded and stunned
but quickly all of them began to get up
and to scurry about haphazardly
like ants will do
if you poke their hole;
they calmed down, one by one
and began to dig into the ground
until all that was left of them
was nothing but a tiny, insignificant hole;
now as time went on
they eventually took root
and not long after that
tiny shoots even poked up out of the ground;
as the years wore on
these shoots grew into full, beautiful trees
and from these trees, each autumn
their hung juicy words ripe for the picking
so that it happened one day
that having forgot that this was the place
where he had almost choked
and seeing a juicy word ripe for the picking
just before him
he could not resist but to pluck it from the tree
and shinnying it up first against his sleeve
he then bit off a big mouthful
and began to chew zestfully;
it was not until
he took his first swallow
that he came to realize
the taste was not sweet at all
but bitter and burning
for he was eating
his own words.
– matt at shadow of iris
words
the tree and the skull
They rushed to her
and they tried and stop her
but of course
it was too late
she had already started
her transformation;
it had started with her hands
each finger growing thinner
and more brittle
then spreading out into a net
of tiny tendrils, leafless branches;
we watched as her toes lengthened
and spread out
dipping into the earth
looking for moisture and nourishment
that was hard to find
in the broken and dry land;
underneath her large flowing dress
there had been
such a rumbling of movement
that it had been as if
small beings were right down there
between her legs, dancing
but it was only the lower half of her body
gradually changing into two solid trunks
then spreading out
into a pattern of tangled branches;
her dress
which still yet, hugged her waste so well
was now surly just wood beneath
soft silk over coarse bark
and for a reason none could understand
only her head remained
human and unchanged
and it leaned lifelessly to one side
her eyes having gone white
and her lips blue
as the last bit of her life
seeped out of her
and she became more and more
a spreading tree.
Her lover had come out
and he had watched her transformation
putting his hand on his chest
and leaning over in anguish;
he put the blame
entirely on himself
and as his jaw moved
the wind whispered
if only I’d had flesh
then you’d have never left me
yet still I’ll claim you
even if this
is all we’ll ever have;
he removed his skeletal head
and placed it down
at the base of the new tree
and after he was finished
the rest of his bones
slowly began to blow away
dust in the wind
and yet his skull remains
to this very day
at the base of that tree
and no one will dare move it.
– matt at shadow of iris
[This poem was inspired by the work of Daniel Martin Diaz]
