Last Blue Norther came
I walked naked to the wind
arms wide open.
Christ up on my cross
funeral frostbite
driving in like nails.
Skin dead to the touch.
Nipples blackened nubs.
Feet frozen in my steps.
This is my love.
Next Blue Norther came
I stayed
and melted by the fire.
Watering your whiskey.
Dampening desire.
Crown of thorns and ice.
Robe of robber's blood.
The sin of sacrifice;
this is my love.
This is my love.
For Poetry Pantry at Poets United
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Sunday, September 13, 2015
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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
19 comments:
Love is so much more than flowers.. it's decay and sacrifice as well. You always capture thoughts to perfections.
This is excellent, MZ.
I am finally accepting that the cross is part of a vital life and love. Which leaves the question of which cross is ours to carry in the fullness of our love. ( I had to look up Blue Norther. There's no escape, is there?)
I can see you, arms wide, walking into the wind........."crown ofthorns and ice".....that sums it up to perfection. You always get right to the heart of it, my friend.
No one says/writes it better, MZ, as always!
Strong imagery of the flip side to love...incredible words MZ!
Such marvelous imagery here :D
If love is what you would call that.
strong images and my mind wanders to what cross we must carry at different points in the journey.
I love the echoing of your last thought.
Let me just say my normal WOW and then I will say how well it flowed, was wonderful to read aloud, and I could feel myself in your words.
intense!
Eerie and fascinating. Got the picture, adored the words; now I want the back story! :-)
Eerie and fascinating. Got the picture, adored the words; now I want the back story! :-)
MZ--As always, with just a few words, you created searing images.
Those last two lines so very powerful - and the title and wish equally so
If ever there was a poem to prove that love will drive a woman to extremes, this is it.
Wonderful metaphor and imagery.
You know, letting go of some of the wildness,
choosing to sacrifice. This is part of love, the things
we could do but don't. You did go to both extremes. Ha.
Hopefully there is some middle ground where we still
get to live.
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