Monday, March 19, 2012

The Singer (Circle Of Fifths)

Her voice is a helix,
a ragged sugarcane scream,
that spirals from the dark diaphragm
of her grief.

Doubt is the dirt
in which the whiskey lily grows.

"Yes" is another shot,
another quick flip of the wrist,
smooth as a Fender's maple neck.

"Later" is something
she never considers at all.

For Shawna's Monday Melting Pot.
Also submitted to Real Toads.

27 comments:

Old Ollie said...

ragged sugarcane scream

that is one cool line!

great piece

Anonymous said...

Slammin' write, Mama. Your title got me all excited because I used to follow (stalk) a band in San Antonio called Circle of Fifths. It was a cover band I was completely obsessed with. They did all kinds of No Doubt songs, and I went to see them every weekend. :)

So for me, this was full of fond memories.

I love your opening lines: creative, crisp, and painful. So many singers do seem to call on their deepest houses of pain to draw forth musical essence and expression. Soulful cries.

LOVE the whiskey lily. It does grow the belief that later doesn't exist.

~Shawna
rosemarymint.wordpress.com

Marian said...

whiskey lily grows in her belly! yessss. indeed it does. that's right profound, right there.

Helen said...

.. that was me in another life. Great write!!!

happygirl said...

I love the flippancy of this. I love the youth it evokes. I miss that time of my life. sorta.

Carol Steel 5050 said...

Raw and lovely.

De Jackson said...

ragged sugarcane scream...dark diaphragm of grief...doubt as dirt...
WOW. This is beautiful and raw, and soulful...and just a gorgeous use of the words. Amazing.

De

Daydreamertoo said...

Phewwww... is she a lush or what! LOL
Hope got the meaning of that American word right... sometimes I'm not sure! haha
Another fab write from your pen Mama Zen (Gosh I made that rhyme too) Hehe

Sherry Blue Sky said...

I especially like "doubt is the dirt in which the whiskey lily grows." I can see her. Powerful write, kiddo.

Kerry O'Connor said...

Doubt is the dirt
in which the whiskey lily grows...

Yeesh! What a line, what a concept.. This poem exemplifies everything I envy in your talent. It is cutting-edge, voice of the times stuff.

hedgewitch said...

Exceptional use of that word list, MZ--and the result is an exceptionally sharp poem.

Fred Rutherford said...

cool piece MZ. Love these lines in particular, Her voice is a helix/a ragged sugarcane scream. Doubt is the dirt/in which the whiskey lily grows. Thanks

Mark Windham said...

love it, esp, 'dirt where the whisky lily grows'

Heaven said...

I specially like:

Doubt is the dirt
in which the whiskey lily grows.

Great stuff MZ~

Susie Clevenger said...

This is fantastic...i too love "doubt is the dirt in which the whiskey lily grows."

Fireblossom said...

That second stanza couplet kicks ass.

Buddah Moskowitz said...

Your poems are like great line drawings that have just enough detail to captivate and enough white space to let my gray matter fill in the gaps.

Wonderful writing, MZ.

Kim Nelson said...

the last stanza tells the whole truth

Kay L. Davies said...

Wonderfully done, with no wasted words. I really like "Later" is something
she never considers at all.
K

Herotomost said...

Whoooaaaaa!!!!! Whiskey Lilies, fender necks, ragged sugercane screams. Let me tell you, this one was light and dark and dirty as a poem can be, its like you took some of the best images, tactiles, tastes and sounds and threw them into a mixing bowl and whisked them within an inch of their lives until your forearm felt like it would fall off.....I soooo loved this one.

Lyn said...

Startling, beautiful combinations of words...a great success, felt this in my heart.

Mary Mansfield said...

A dark scene written quite beautifully...could have been me in another life. Nice write Mama Z!

manicddaily said...

Wonderful. So crisp and evocative, but nice and short, concentrating the punch. K.

ab said...

"smooth as a Fender's maple neck" -- I hear that!

myheartslovesongs said...

'Her voice is a helix,'

'"Later" is something
she never considers at all.'

from beginning to end, this is a brilliant poem!

Margaret said...

This was created from a word list? It has such mood and drama!

Brendan said...

I composed a piano ditty once on the circle of fifths -- it could go on endlessly, the last tone become the ascendant fifth of the next. Round and round it goes, a helix whose end nobody knows, just like taking all of those shots from a fifth that doesn't have a bottom. Pretty devious, and this singer's plight is famously wound between shining and shimmying down down down. Very cunning and true. I couldn't help think some of Whitney Houston, so gifted with gospel, so entranced with the truth of dark places. - Brendan