Both brazen and cautious
Concealed ovulation
Baiting with beauty
Cutting off the head and throwing back
What you didn't intend to bite on your bait
Lovely lesson wasted on dullards
Backlash of beauty
Nursery lined in black feather, black face
Folded black lace
Black ring under sleepless eyes
Beauty cooed quietly to the next in line
What really goes on in the twigs
In the treetop quiet nights
Where young sailors scan the distance
Your focus on fledglings
Partner fending for self
Offerings quickly consumed
Without wisdom
Parting proceeds
Pulling together to go the distance
Croaking, cawing encouragement
Beauty internalizing into smiles
Rocking rythms
Humor, mercy, patience
Saying more than nevermore
A contest entry
- Crow Gathering Crone Wisdom - One day contest by CarolDesjarlais.
525 points, ended April 20, 2007, 8 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird by film.
700 points, ended January 11, 11 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Buddy Wakefield by GeneralPeppers.
550 points, ended September 16, 2 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 12 of 12
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Nursery lined in black feather, black face
Folded black lace
Black ring under sleepless eyes
That line is amazing. I like to make my own assumptions about what poems mean but I'd like for you to tell me what inspired this. -
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First of all General, I write intuitively and afterward find the meaning. The original prompt was to combine the concept of crow and crone; without using either word. Crow you know. Crone, is the third and final stage of woman, in pagan understanding, after maiden and mother. The 3 fold understanding is a theme of the poem, a way to explain "Crone." I used the two survival themes of nature, Symbiosis, or working together, and parasitism, the taking of one thing with out regard to 'payment' to the one taken from; and then contemplated the dynamics of attraction, bonding, and reproduction. The opening 'feather' is almost a protest how women use beauty to attract, and ruthlessly slam men who respond, but don't meet 'criteria.' "Get away, you creep!" You with me? Next, Is the surprise for the father at how the mother is consumed with the care of the offspring, which is demanding and exhausting. The black lace folded is the lack of time and energy for romantic love. The third feather is about the inevitable time in a couple's life, when they measure the effort for the return and generally decide the relationship is a bad deal. This is a major dynamic in divorce. To survive, the fourth feather suggests pulling together, encouraging one another, and being kind. The internalization of beauty and 'rocking' as in rocking chair- indicate the passage of time, and the growth of wisdom associated with the 'crone' stage. When I listened to the buddy Wakefield piece, it reminded me of this poem.
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This is sooooo Gold ...
that the shimmer is blinding in sight.
MG --
Love
Myra
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A very interesting and transforming look at crows.
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what dear one have we here
what set you to thinking of the crows? Even the picture sets me back. Age is scary enough to us girls. -
This is an interesting entry in my humble little contest
Thanks for entering and good luck!
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Caw! Caw!
This is an amazing tribute to our black feathered friends. I love all crows and ravens, they are given such a bad rap. I have an image (that may or may not become a poem) that's been simmering on low in my brain for a couple years now, about the love of crows. Thanks for sharing your vision. -
Head cut off, body desecrated, sometimes the bait is friendship. I can see the sailor scanning the distance, contemplating the terms of his conscription...
You might consider including wattle and daub, a dwelling construction technique that is essentially the same as nestbuilding. Or not- It is an incredibly prophetic work. True power is the ability to predict. -
Ah...even better.... ty for taking it so kindly.
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Ah, see, now it is a perfect poem....
will a
make it better?
As I said in closing....but for that....it would have been a winner...
I have taken such flack over allowing a trophy to go to a poem that has an error, that I am as little headshy...
I am so sorry you didn't ge my message soon enough to change it....
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Oh this is truly poetry at its best...but for one dang little stop in this woods, it woudl be a winner.... "intent "
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"What really goes on in the twigs
In the treetop quiet nights
Where young sailors scan the distance"
I like this one, my Friend...Beauty is, indeed, only skin deep...but wisdom goes clear through...Good luck in Carol's contest, Scribe... Wanda
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