Low Lying Clouds In a Pearl Colored Skye~

~"In the sunset of dissolution, everything is illuminated by the aura of nostalgia, even the guillotine." — Milan Kundera (The Unbearable Lightness of Being)

There was a field outside of Pápa

that coaxed the clouds to ground;

my journey into the sea of poppies was completely unintentional

that late winter day

I was not supposed to find such beauty, for

Wednesdays were usually meant for monsters

but really, they could show up anyday

 

Poppies never bloom in winter

girls are not supposed to bleed so young

joy was as ornery as a stallion about to be broken

and tomorrow did somersaults into yesterdays

until time was a bloated flower

ready to scatter and reseed;

this is how I lived my youngest days

any wonder, I am madder than a hatter in a Belle jar?

 

The day I found the field

rich with a hundred thousand red poppies

seducing clouds out of the skye

I also found the Russian soldier, out of his army coat

looking like any man enjoying a fine day;

but I knew, even so young, that there were no such things

as ‘any man’

and so my approach was wary

curiosity shoved with little fists pressed against floating ribs

 

What a lot of people forget

is that I am not a pigeon made for comfy holes

I was born in a world of mythology stuffed and well kept

under glass in father’s manse

I saluted Lenin and sang his songs

and marched with the rest of the town on May Day

past padlocked churches

to the building with the shiny star

pledge allegiance to communism

here, here!

and cheers

with apricot brandy

 

The soldier recognized my ambiance

over a broad shoulder

a line between his brows

“Your father will be angry. You’re far from home, little girl.”

they all knew father

each one bought

carried in his pocket

but there, that day I hardly heard him

for the scent of dying was thick

the coating of blood on his leather gloves, fresh

and, noticed by little girl mind

cast the somnolent poppies

into a sullen hush

under pearl clouds

 

I once ran into Gypsy Town

hidden like a tarnished brooch at the Northern throat of Papa

night crucified inside shiny black eyes

candles and torches burning the winter out of the air

that’s where I stumbled upon Maria

and the generational secrets

that are as mundane and every day as any man born to sin

with the only difference being

how close to home they murder innocence

 

Blue eyes glancing off red poppies

the dead girl beside the soldier

so white in her naked display

her throat an open dream left unfulfilled;

she was a singer

he was her lover

her killer

in that town

in that year

of 1968

the two were interchangeable

that love thing

that thrill kill thing

 

We left the dead girl in the field

the poppies sighed

was it relief?

I think so

and the soldier was kind enough to remove his bloody gloves

before he took my hand

and walked me under clouds

back to the monsters of Bone Woods

 

My body holds a lot of secrets

My cells contain the scrolls of the inhumane condition

Like poppies

Under the clouds of my pearl bones

 

 

 

copyright:2011vssmd/amusemusepress

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Author's Note

for Kerry's Sunday challenge #2 http://www.writerscafe.org/contests/KERRY%27S-Sunday-Challenge-%232/13815/

Reviews

[LilyT]

Yes, we forget that behind your beauty is the history of a flesh and blood woman who has endured the greatest fires.

What a lot of people forget
is that I am not a pigeon made for comfy holes
I was born in a world of mythology stuffed and well kept
under glass in father’s manse
I saluted Lenin and sang his songs
and marched with the rest of the town on May Day
past padlocked churches
to the building with the shiny star
pledge allegiance to communism
here, here!
and cheers
with apricot brandy


Selene, you sure know how to really get into a heart.

[OT]

I have read this, no idea why I didn't review lol words are no longer being my friend lol but as always you show us why you're one of, if not the best writers on here! consistently brilliant and so talented!! a more story steer of the pen here - though the surreality and wonders never leave - another classic!! brilliant!

[Kerry O'Connor]

This poem is different from your surreal style, with such a strong narrative base, yet your signature imagery is still tucked into each scene. It seems to me, this is one if those pieces which wrote themselves, using your pen as conduit for some inherited memory, that has lived silently strapped to genome. How you have managed to captured the sensitivity of the feminine, against the backdrop of the worst form of patriarchal domination: father, soldier, tyranny, is nothing short of brilliant. And so many of your motifs are connected on a direct line to the novel itself.

Thank you very much for entering your work in the Sunday Challenge #2

[arbitrary jane]

bold take on a bold quote.
the last two stanzas are a firebrand.

[Poeticadia]

This is stunning poetry! The slow release of the narrative through the symbol of the poppies, the deep images and impressions engraved on the young mind, the stark sense of disillusion and acceptance... brilliant. Disclosing the intimacy of experience, the colour of its suffering.

[Larry Dyson]

especially enamored of this phrase...."night crucified inside shiny black eyes
candles and torches burning the winter out of the air
that’s where I stumbled upon Maria
and the generational secrets
that are as mundane and every day as any man born to sin
with the only difference being
how close to home they murder innocence"

[Larry Dyson]

Yes...."My body holds a lot of secrets
My cells contain the scrolls of the inhumane condition
Like poppies
Under the clouds of my pearl bones"

yes the more I learn of You....100 for your knife to the bone honesty...

[Lachenille Papillion]

Your pelt wears beauty despite the scars that lay beneath the flesh... You are the gold standard measurement for the ability to turn back, peering into dark beneath the light of day without being overshadowed by the landscape...

amazing work here

[Joiedevivre]

there is so much... and its always creatively and beautifully wrapped.

[samurai212]

Your amazing :D