Thursday, February 26, 2009

untitled

I want to be a song
lilting across
fields, playing with the

wind, rising
through the night
ready to be taken
to bed

like a wet dream
the stain leaves
a memory

a singer rolls me
in her throat
a player fills his
fingers with me

low pedals moan
resonate me
I trill in the
mouths of birds

and curl around
branches
bright and mellow
rich and deep

I am the scream
in a leopard's throat

7 comments:

Julie said...

What a fantastic ending. This poem is beautiful and powerful. The twists of language and the images are spectacular. I love it.

Sorry to pelt you with so many comments in one day. I'm obviously catching up on reading but having a great time doing it. Your work is wonderful, Holly. These lines just sing:

"low pedals moan
resonate me
I trill in the
mouths of birds

and curl around
branches
bright and mellow
rich and deep"

Beautiful.

christine said...

Holly, what a stunning, imaginative poem. You are so good at metaphor. Not good, great! Lovely sound, too.

Beryl Singleton Bissell said...

I felt that song become live, assume other lives, identities, essences,and then the shocking ending. Unforgettable.

Nathan said...

"The stain leaves a memory" is really wonderful. I like this one a lot.

holly said...

Thanks guys! I am crazy with school...just something that came out. I have been listening to a lot of music lately while grading and whatnot.

Nadege said...

this poem rises
and then hints to
falling
into deep valleys
shimmering

floreta said...

i like the sound of this poem.