Artwork: The Harpy Calaeno, 1902, by Mary Pownall, Kelvingrove Art Gallery
Photograph by Stephencdickson, Wikimedia Commons
The word drops …
there is no steeling yourself
an oozing black tar
staining your insides
a writhing knot of snakes
expanding ever outward
Cancer, you bitch
clawing your way
through a mortal temple
slowly stealing life
but not soul
In this case
Despite the news
For my second poem I wanted to actually write about the sculpture. Inspired by the poems written by my sisters in the form of pantoum and villanelle, I chose a form as well. In gearing up for next week's poetry stretch I decided to experiment with the Luc Bat, a Vietnamese form with a repeating rhyme scheme and lines of six and eight syllables.
No prize this beast with wings,
the roar of her voice sings, not sweet
but raw, a clawing beat.
Cover your ears, retreat … no run
before your end’s begun
before you are undone by scales,
beating wings, mournful wails,
those claws as sharp as nails. Beware!
Once fixed in her cold stare,
you will not have a prayer save one.
Recall she's marble spun,
this myth that made men run, now stone
and beauty, fearsome thing.
You can read the poems written by my Poetry Seven compatriots at the links below. Andi's not sharing a poem today, but she's always with us in spirit.
I do hope you'll take some time to check out all the wonderful poetic things being shared and collected today by Jone of Check It Out. Happy poetry Friday friends!