Thursday, October 01, 2009

let the red bleed

my angel and my devil by thomas hawk



that hole in your chest
makes for a nice design
that blueness sets of the white

why are we both made
to carry long iron rods
who the hell is playing God?

I would melt it, pour it
on myself, let the red
bleed, meld into you

this seat of metal burns me
your fixed eye turns me on
your face is a mottled blur

red, white, red, white
more and more are added
until everything else fades

"beat that machine with the rod"

28 comments:

anthonynorth said...

Excellently done.

Lorraine said...

gory, red so heartwrenchly dark and you're so beautiful...go figure!

Cynthia Short said...

Very good, and for some reason I felt some dark humor in it..."Who the hell is playing God?" I ask myself that time and again....

Rajlakshmi said...

Who the hell is playing god - nw thats somethng to think abt.. Well penned

Ana said...

powerful images, loved it, especially the second and third stanza.

Derrick said...

Hi Gautami,

My favourite lines are:
"I would melt it, pour it
on myself, let the red
bleed, meld into you"

briarcat said...

"your fixed eye turns me on" great. I missed that about (him), fixated on the blue spot. You certainly had fun with it. thanks

Paul Oakley said...

Nice, gautami. I like the hole in the chest image and its blueness in the white figure.

Your stanza:

red, white, red, white
more and more are added
until everything else fades


...is very nicely achieved. Its first line echoes the military march drill calling left, right, left, right. The fact that everything else fades points out the human reality that we vest our group endeavors, from war to sports, with such importance that nothing else exists.
_____

Paul Oakley
Blogging his ReadWritePoem poems at
Inner Light, Radiant Life

rallentanda said...

Well Ms Triptette I wonder what Dr.Freud would think of all of this.And who is Lorraine? Puzzling.

davidmoolten said...

Great concentration of the key details in a tortured, moving lover's interrogation of self, partner, and situation. I especially like the line, "who the hell is playing God?"

Linda said...

I love the dance you create in this poem with the questions and suppositions. This is a well written work, Gautami. Thanks.

Irene said...

If they could speak, what you wrote seems exactly what's going on.

sage said...

I love it, Gautami. I will think of you the next time I play foosball

Tumblewords: said...

Strong imagery - passionate compassion.

Wayne Pitchko said...

wonderful ramble Gautami...thanks for sharing

rallentanda said...

For some reason message thing wont work.Don't know if you're interested but take a look at New Formalism group. Get some sonnets out of your system.Sorry for all the silly comments.It's spring here that can be my excuse.
cheers
Rall

Bill said...

I am envious of your piece- I am working hard on finding the place that makes me find the inspiration that you have found in this piece. Good work and good job!

Julie Jordan Scott said...

Our poems this week read like cousins, my friend.

You used one of my favorite words - mottled - and I enjoyed the tone of muttering confusion and disbelief with what is so...

Like a cosmic, "What just happens" and "What continues to happen?" and "How can I change what happens next!?"

Thank you for an evocative read.

Donn w/2nz said...

I appreciate what you've done here.
This is a metaphor about how we make foos out of ourselves when we're in love innit?

Our hearts are skewered, everything is spinning out of control, and we're met with blank stares.

bearlyaudible said...

This poem has a nice pace, and change of pace as well. And done with a nice economy of words, allowing the images to be the more easily seen.

Zouxzoux said...

A strong piece. I like it!

Mark said...

I enjoyed the dark humor and the bit of confusion that the line "Who the hell is playing g*d" brought out to me. That started things off well and it held that high standard throughout.

Well done.

Jessica GC said...

"Who the hell is playing God?" I loved that part. You've done a great job with this prompt! I enjoyed your poem a lot :)

EKSwitaj said...

riveting - the ordinary language of the first stanza makes the subject all the more powerful (and perhaps sinister) in contrast

Janice Thomson said...

I'll never look at foosball the same way ever again.
"...who the hell is playing God?..."
Brilliant line in any context but especially here. Loved this Guatami.

Nathan said...

"your fixed eye turns me on
your face is a mottled blur" -- such intensity here!

oldegg said...

Crisp and horrifying yet strangely beautiful. I loved it.

Deb said...

The words & dialog of the "players" play on the games intensity. Well done!

(Sorry I am so late to visit!)