Saturday, September 14, 2013

Mud Mouth


I prayed to the moon.
I prayed to the trees.
I prayed till the skin
sloughed right off my knees,
and my tongue hung like parchment -
bleached of its blood -
a wick for the river,
a wick for the mud.

For Grace's challenge at Real Toads

30 comments:

Grace said...

Sharp prayer here MZ ~ Loving title, the tongue hung like parchment and wick for the river & for the mud ~ Thanks for linking up with Sunday Challenge ~

Wishing you Happy Weekend ~

Tammy said...

Oh, lovely. Just lovely.

Hannah said...

This reads so like a chant, Mama Zen! I love how you see this!

Sioux said...

Mama Zen--Your word choice (sloughed and wick, especially) are unerring, as usual. You should check out Tammy's piece. She's taking succinct lessons from you, I think...

Richard Cody said...

And what did it get you?

Fireblossom said...

Sometimes there's something to be said for action. I love the weird progression from prayer to spooky wicking here.

Kay L. Davies said...

From your words, I can see this happening, the skinned knees, here beside the trees, under the moon, in the mud of the river.
Awesome write, MZ.
K

Susie Clevenger said...

I can see this being chanted while under a full moon...beautiful piece!

Kerry O'Connor said...

Oh, this is brilliant. Part incantation, part revelation. Too good.

kaykuala said...

Remind's me of a Hari,Hari.. a Hari Krishna's chanting. So mesmerizing and so hypnotizing! Nicely MZ

Hank

Lorraine said...

shivers and the photo perfectly completes it , fantastic Mama Zen

Kathryn said...

Oooh I just love this, especially the line

and my tongue hung like parchment -
bleached of its blood -

I could see myself on my knees chanting this.

Debi Swim said...

Real, heartfelt prayers should be like this, I think. You have such skill with words.

humbird said...

Strong connection here with nature! Cool poem!

manicddaily said...

Just wonderful. k.

Helen said...

Beautiful poem, MZ .... wicking a stroke of genius.

grapeling said...

an ensorcellment, MZ

Mary said...

Very very nice...quite a prayer.

hedgewitch said...

Perfect cadence, and the moral of the tale is devastating--abasement and its aftermath, and that muddy muddy taste.

Gail said...

I have never read a poem of yours I didn't like. Another great one!

chamomile sea said...

Excellent.

You know, I don't really read this as being a negative lesson learned. It has a "cycle of life" feel to me. A wick's job is to illuminate the softness around it. Although you may not have gotten what you wished for, you became a part of the earth in your death (of body and/or spirit) that enabled you to bring power to nature, to bring other forces to life. Your blood and skin were not wasted --- only repurposed and revitalized through the magic of living dirt and water.

cosmos cami said...

I love the succinct rhythm of this

Susan said...

From futility to re-found usefulness. I think it would be lovely to become useful to the land after death even as we dare to give it voice before!

Brian Miller said...

dang. now that is some intense prayer...the parchment tongue is a wicked hit mz

Isadora Gruye said...

I've alway loved the fact that mud and blood rhyme....here you did a sing song job of it! Viva la

LaTonya Baldwin said...

Whoa! Like how you cut to bone.

Other Mary said...

"and my tongue hung like parchment -
bleached of its blood -"

I love the internal rhyme and alliteration. Wicked good, in every sense of the phrase!

Ella said...

I feel parched after reading your poem-in a good way!
I love this line:
"and my tongue hung like parchment-
bleached of its blood"

I love the lyrical tone and your way to project us to see beyond~

wkkortas said...

Whereas our old friend Stephen Crane had nine hundred and ninety-nine tongues that lied, here we have one that seems to have given all for the truth. Fine, fine stuff.

gabrielle said...

I really can't add anything new to the responses to this astonishing piece. Suffice it to say that each time I read the poem it sends bone deep shivers.