Penance - a reading (on YouTube)
The time of storms is near again.
Watchfires burn the northern sky.
Among the ruins I cultivate a garden,
Another refuge from this darkening age.
Will this one survive?
I tend alone.
A chill wind whispers to a cold scream.
The tempest drowns the warding flames.
Icy stones slash tender blossoms.
Petals blacken.
And are gone.
I need to leave this lifeless place,
This fallow world of my creation.
As once I wielded death,
Now the blade torments me.
5/86
© 2014 Edward P. Morgan III
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ReplyDeleteNotes and asides:
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My intent for this year’s Celtic holiday messages is to post a previously unreleased poem (on the fiction side) and a discussion (on the essay side) using the same picture. The discussion will be about the poem itself, perhaps a bit of its history and whatever goes through my mind relating to it and the holiday. Some of the connections may not seem obvious. I think that’s ok. Take them for what they are, a sharing of a kind.
As I was unsuccessfully trying to drift off to sleep the other night, I was thinking about what to write for the Celtic holiday messages. As you may remember, I had a couple different ideas for themes. But in the end, neither of them felt right for a couple different reasons. So I was still struggling with what to do.
Part of that struggle came from Karen being scheduled to be away on business on the day I post. One of my ideas had been to get back to writing out and posting whatever came to mind on the days leading up to the holiday, a kind of improv riff I used to do. The problem was that meant I had nothing to seed Karen with as an inspiration for the photo. In the past, we’ve scrambled the night before to get something appropriate, which is kind of fun yet kind of stressful at the same time.
I’d already been toying with the idea of abandoning the essays altogether and committing to posting a new story on the day. Unfortunately, the one I’m (still) working on may or may not be ready. Since I really didn’t want to miss marking the day, I felt that, too, might not be my best option. That’s when I thought of poetry.
I know most people find my poetry odd, perhaps the least appealing thing I post. In fact, there’s only one person out there who consistently comments on the poems and encourages me to write more. Or maybe I’m just reluctant to post it because of a Heinlein quote I ran across in my formative years that stuck with me. “A poet who reads his verse in public may have other nasty habits.”
There’s something right about that. Poetry is deeply personal. If it resonates with anyone else, I think that defines art. And I think we covered earlier whether mine falls into that category.
Regardless, something about the idea appealed to me. I had something I could hand Karen so she could come up with a picture. I had a number of previously unreleased poems that I hoped at least one or two people might enjoy. And it gave me enough leeway and time to write up something to accompany it on the fly.
When I started transcribing my poems in a little tweed, cloth-bound book I picked up a number of years ago, Penance was the very first entry, marked as completed 5/86. Since then, I’ve added another nearly three dozen. Many of the more recent ones you’ve seen. Some you never will. But eight feel good enough to share this year, along with some stream of consciousness commentary.
Here’s hoping, as always, that you read, share and enjoy.
(You can find more background on this poem in the companion essay “Imbolc 2017 – Penance” on the Noddfa Imaginings blog for essays).
Picture Notes:
ReplyDelete(Edward posting for Karen)
In May of 2009, like many dry springs, we had not gotten any measurable rain all winter. We were under watering restrictions as the local reservoir was out of commission due to cracks resulting from poor construction. So when we finally got some rain, I was very happy, as was our lawn. I wrote a friend, saying "Rain!", after taking this picture. The low and foreboding, gray clouds foretold a coming storm, and shortly after this picture it did, in fact, rain.