Pheonix

PHOENIX

 

The nest we wove with
smooth chilli pepper skins
and sticks of ginger.
Cardomen pods,
burnished orange.
Bronzed Arabian spice.

And we soared into life
and scattered gold light.
Stole the black from Eastern nights,
licking the skies with dancing finger tips.

Then the death of you
extinguished our flame.
And from the charred remains of us
only I’ll rise again.

by Jackie Blissett
 

Reviews

[Shellie]

I actually feel this is about the spice of life, whatever it is to one person, be it life, love,family, and you tell it with a mystery also, I dont know who died but thats the whole mystery, what or who do you mean? Its a piece that touches senses... even the 'sixth'..being death of someone, smell...ginger chilli and spice...touch 'fingertips'. The flow is smooth and doesnt break and imagery is well woven in, eastern skies and the colour of burnished orange. Its great!

[Raef C. Boylan]

What a great introduction to your work: this intriguing, sensual piece.
Nice cadence throughout, induced by the subtle rhyming; particularly for the last line [flame, again], as the rhyming adds a note of triumphant/melancholy [?] finality to the poem.
I learnt to cook several Pakistani dishes with my ex-girlfriend; this reminds me of that. Even when I moved into my bedsit alone, I bought powdered Garam Masala, Jeera, Dhania, Chili...the thrill and habits of cooking with spices doesn't die easily.

Great piece. Thanks for sharing it with us, and thanks for your review.

p.s. Did you know your two titles are spelt differently? I think the main WC one has the typo.

[fireblossom]

This is a great poem. I am so glad you joined us.

I loved the symbolism of spices as appurtenances. We are born with similarities (basic food) often it is the spice added or chosen that creates us as artist.

All the best to you.

[Robert Francis Callaci]

This poem got me hungry- This is a gourmet delight- This could be about a cooking class -or a group of chef- where the teacher or head chef died and the group disbanded but you rose from the ashes and continued to make food magic- or it could be about.... but its a pure word feast- you do have a way with making your words salivate- an underlying sensousness to your poetry- I guess living in italy can do that to you- A great write.....


my warmest
bob