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| Blogs > Mariana_Trench_ > poetic disambiguation |
Poem Three in a Series: "Louise"
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Poem Three in a Series: "Louise" At the end of my suffering there was a door. Hear me out: that which you call death I remember. Overhead, noises, branches of the pine shifting. Then nothing. The weak sun flickered over the dry surface. It is terrible to survive as consciousness buried in the dark earth. Then it was over: that which you fear, being a soul and unable to speak, ending abruptly, the stiff earth bending a little. And what I took to be birds darting in low shrubs. You who do not remember passage from the other world I tell you I could speak again: whatever returns from oblivion returns to find a voice: from the center of my life came a great fountain, deep blue shadows on azure seawater. "The Wild Iris" by Louis Gluck -------------- Here will be the place, the earth scooped out And aren’t all sarcophagus convex? A womb That smells of decay and crawling worms bask Lazy vines climb her brick façade – at night Athena sprang forth – now she’s run a muck Hurry, hurry, shift! How crumbling soil clamors Push her in like a bleak rhizome, she’ll unfurl That dead sister made her mother dry but - Her skin shivering, her eyes dance smiling, you Could try to hear her laughing, such chimes Like a timpani but terrible in consciousness Every verse like shadows; a sky-written elegy A hymn to a ravine, the bridge quivering tensely, how the mountain air enveloped her, and Spoken with candor of death and disappointment, The flaking fence door swung wide– how every day, the misting valley birthed the Breath of a mare, heaving flesh, gripping limbs The fellowship of her blood and language -Mariana Trench       |
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