the semisacred fairy

 

 

I had that feeling, the one i'v been known to have, for the unpteenth time,

after our chance meeting of eyes that there was something lacking texture

something defeated or demolished completely. A jete' emanating or appearing

to emanate from something celestial, where magical poems are kept to sing

under beds in the late night. Something traveling or moving away like beauty

or youth or the eclipse of the sun by the moon, that shares it's closest secrets with

semisacred love. My sister says there real, and I agree.

 

My Muslim friend cautioned me to step with my left foot first into a strangers door

as not to reel in the disfavor of the spirit self, as if houses know the sway of the wind

as artifact or skeleton. They don't. But they do know the history of bricks and wood,

the story of family and cultivation  that sends down roots to the ground like a vine,

such as love or depression, the most acceptable way to live out a female existence,

since the depressed cannot be held responsible for the dreams of male approval.

 

Nevertheless, one can imagine fairies in long evening gowns, having suffered but still

believing in front porches and table settings and weathered sheets, and streams with

willow herbs of honey, and men returning from work, and hot food, and rings taken off and

rinsed of sweat, and shoes covered with bottom dirt, and funerals, and the good taste of meat

or a childs face. And the effluvium of tear after tear, when it's impossible to dry the

face of an old man, so he heads to the lake with a cane pole and nightcrawlers,

when the haze of the day is strong, then comes back at night,

headfirst, with story and risk

 

and fish with tiny bones.

Reviews

[Circe]

I get such an integral connection to the feelings conveyed here.. subconsciously or otherwise.. where magical poems are kept to sing under beds.. opens the floodgates to so many wanderings and memories.. beauty that is intangible and complete in itself.. I like the mention of female existence and male approval.. pretty powerfully felt.. and the fairies suffering with domesticity.. the mystery of tear after tear, life is being lived here and it's humanic, ethereal.. meets with the understanding of nature... it's a piece that contains so much, enriching and phenomenal.

[Tree]

A brilliant piece. As an avid reader of all of your poetry this poem illuminated a part of the poet I had not seen before. Mrs Emily called this her favorite and I almost want to do the same; but you have shared with us too many good poems, for me to make that commitment. Just a great poem, dana

Diego

[Emily B]

this may be my very favorite of your works so far, something about the magic and the tears and all things that are possible and not known yet . . .

these are words to come back to