18 January 2011

White Bowl

Animal sounds, jawbone working
and noises echo off the plaster,
reverb for the solitary eater

Mopping the remains with bread,
uncovering a field of snowy white
tasting faintly of memories unswallowed

leaden spoon cracks the bell
shattering a porcelain heart once held
by hands that once held his own

7 comments:

  1. "memories unswallowed"....wow. Sometimes your imagery sends chills down my back. Hauntingly lovely.

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  2. Ya, what Chantel said. Maybe you need a vacation to a warmer clime or something. Something to shake you off whatever's got it's claws into you.

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  3. @CDA - brilliant! Let's take Irish Gumbo somewhere on our blogs! Somewhere warmer. Hmmmm...

    Ferb, I know what we're going to do today!

    Hey, where's Perry?

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  4. sad, happy, and anywhere in between, Irish, your words are powerful. the images are stark and beautiful. Just wish you peace, my blogging friend.

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  5. Okay, now I'm hungry. Not sure for what, though.... Great post.

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  6. i knew you boys cried behind closed doors. Now here's a damn tissue.

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  7. Beautiful imagery. That "tasting faintly of memories unswallowed" is so poignant and vivid. You're compiling your stuff for a book, right?

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"Let your laws come undone
Don't suffer your crimes
Let the love in your heart take control..."


-'The Hair Song', by Black Mountain

Tell me what is in your heart...