Red moon rising.
We're stringing fish guts through the corn.
Red moon rising.
Wonder what I could grow with yours.
Gonna raise me up a dusty man
with rain water in his eyes.
Hands as smooth as a preacher man's
moving up and down my thighs.
Red dirt blowing.
It's like Abel said to Cain -
when that red dirt's blowing,
ain't nothin' in those fields but pain.
Gonna raise me up a money man
with gold pieces in his eyes.
Hands that burn like the preacher man's
just to get between my thighs.
Red moon rising
hanging high in the dusty air.
That red dirt keeps on blowing,
but we can't go nowhere.
For Open Link Night at dVerse.
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
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About Me
- Maude Lynn
- Anybody who has survived his childhood has enough information about life to last him the rest of his days. ---Flannery O'Connor
46 comments:
I think the red moon is kind of scary, yet intriguing.
Some heat-addled summertime blues here, enough to make this poor boy cross himself as he hears the soft plush thirsty voice coming from the moony corn-rows.
Great rhythm....I want that dusty man's hands on me...
LOL-- Brendan crossing himself... a wonderful blues-poem; i hear echoes of that song Bad Moon on the Rise... these are distinctive and intense lyrics of vulnerability-- check out sheila's-- some parallels... something's in the water...xxxj
edgy and sharp images of the red moon rising...
great share ~
Find yourself some musicians and get this recorded, they'd make fantastic song lyrics!
We're stringing fish guts through the corn - dynamite line.
a little bit o witch craft is spinning in here...better watch wishing for a man like hte preacher man you will never get no sleep...delicious write mz
This is wicked good :) nice!!!!!!!!!
The others comments remind me of the movie Cape Fear. The original with Robert Mitchum as the lunatic Bible thumping man. Your prose is seductive and wanting.
I love the moon. Being Cancerian, (I suppose) the moon and water are two things that move deep in me.
Another lovely read from you Mama Zen~!
Oh Carys beat me to it - I was tapping my foot and findin' the tune; honeypie this is good stuff beneath an August moon! LOVED IT!
i'd like to have the dusty man
with rain water in his eyes...just saying...smiles
Cape Fear mixed with some very black magic and a dash of Children of the Corn, for a red dirt horror story redoubled. I'm lockin the doors tonight.
Love this! I especially like the 4th stanza.
I always like when you weave biblical references into your poems, so masterful.
you rock words and feelings, as usual!
xo
No unicorns?
Definitely one for the band and you do know how to create a picture with your words. Terrific!
Sylvia
..i like this.. it could be sung for you put this in a melodic way.. i like the notion of a rising red moon.. thanks for the poem!
~Kelvin
Strong vivid images - love it
Really enjoyed the imagery. That opening stanza really sets the tone. Excellent write
Well done Mama...love the rhythm of this...movement within a caged place beneath that red moon.
hot and hefty.
"Red dirt blowing.
It's like Abel said to Cain -
when that red dirt's blowing,
ain't nothin' in those fields but pain."
I enjoyed this verse. The field sure do have pain.
As I read this I hear Ode to Billy Joe in my head (only because of that down south feeling this has) this is sultry but with a southern twang all its own!
Very sultry - love the imagery. I agree with others above, this one is crying out to be sung! Excellent write.
saucy write - like the red used in the rising moon and blowing dirt - sets a perfect mood for the whole thing.
This sings, literally sings a rock ballad of stirring mind grabbing images. Great skill here, momma. Always a pleasure, but tonight was doubly so. I enjoyed this much. The pain and curse of the field was given a voice. Superb!
oh, i love it! the imagery is creepy and enticing at the same time, great rhythm and cadence.
love this.
wicked jealous of your style...
;)
Like Carys and Gay I went to music in my head - Red Dirt Girl is my favorite EmmyLou Harris song. Cry every time. Love it!
enjoyed the flow and feel of your fantastically woven poem. i saw a red moon rising this evening...it's now white as snow, but still i'm a bit spooked after reading the spell you caste with your words.
This jam ended way too soon for me. Play on!
Oh, I love it, and can practically hear the music.
Sing it sister! Or perhaps chant it would work more effectively...love this much, and beware those hands that burn~ :)
I think you are a rock star. This had a driving beat. :)
sultry and hot....my fav read thud far...amazing.
sultry summer blues-excellent!
That red moon in this super hot weather certainly adds to the ..umm.. heat...
Quite a sinful treat this was, Mama Z.. :) Whheww!! (wiping sweat off my brow)
Love that Red Moon and that dusty man...that is a man..Great Writing Mama...you stirred up some great images out of that dust....bkm
Wonderful longing in this one.
This has a great rhythm, and I ditto BKM's response above!
Edgy, clever, and a bit dangerous. I like it!
David
Spooky-mood write, and effective use of repetitive structure = excellent.
It's a song - a sensual song. And it's good.
you make the mind imagine what happens under the red moon MZ
sensual piece ripe for the picking
gotta watch that red moon rising. you certainly raise the heat with this one! LOVE it! ♥ d
Great poem! Sort of gritty, romantic and mystical at once.
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