made of bare bones
and sticks,
clay-modeled diagrams,
chips of a china doll —
the earth-buoyed body cricks,
cracks, like the door,
seldom opened.
i wait to be explored,
i seek redemption,
in
the thickets,
calls of
a cuckoo,
the arms of
my
chthonic god.
~
Intermingling psychology and symbolism with my current state of mind, a little something for dVerse Quadrille #63
Image source: Vincent Van Skelly (a parody of Van Gogh’s Self Portrait with Bandaged Ear) by Marie Marfia
And here’s something moody for you:
***
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There are elements of darkness in your Quadrille, Anmol, the kind of delicious darkness that sends a thrill up my spine. I especially enjoyed the lines:
‘the earth-buoyed body cricks,
cracks, like the door,
seldom opened’.
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Ah, the allure of the darkness is such that it is thrilling and sometimes comforting too. Thanks for your kind words, Kim. ❤
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yes, yes, we must lick and taste of the deep earth to remember, to know, to rise out and above, again ….
as Kim noted, there are some wonderful dark aspects to this 44 – and the word choices and images are great – I really liked “chips of a china doll” – that sings!
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Nice phrase “earth-buoyed body” and the idea of waiting to be explored.
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Moody fits my day. Great soundtrack for this poem. I really really love your word choices, and the way they slide off my tongue. This is a poem that demands to be read aloud. I’m so in love with “the earth-buoyed body cricks,
cracks, like the door,
seldom opened.” And the search for redemption. Awesome.
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I am glad that you read it out loud. That gives me so much pleasure; that’s why I try to read and visit others late into the night so that I can feel the words fall down my tongue in relative silence.
Thanks for your kind feedback, Victoria. ❤
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Really, this is one of your best poems; really dug it. Strong images & implications–yes, too many of us have sinned against our mother and our family and our home.
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I find sinning as a necessary condition of being; it’s the conundrum it poses, the weight it imposes, the acceptance that it distorts, that I find really scary.
Thanks for your lovely feedback, Glenn. ❤
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The call of a cuckoo sings out among the earthly sounds in your poem Anmol, it is considered lucky here when we hear it on our journey 🍀
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The cuckoo song reminds me of comfortable days and a semblance of normalcy too. It’s been a while since I have heard one sing.
Thanks for visiting. ❤
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Gone to ground — beware of Greeks offering pomegranates. Nicely done!
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This is deliciously deep, dark and brooding! Especially like the image; “the earth-buoyed body cricks, cracks, like the door, seldom opened.” ❤
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OH, the sounds and twists here. Wonderful!
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This part resonated with me as I believe we all seek it:
i seek redemption,
in
the thickets,
calls of
a cuckoo
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Deep, dark and ripe with beautiful images. loved this poem.
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I really love the darkness here… the arms of a chthonic god is excellent, and really works with the image…
I could see you using Vincent’s paining of a smoking skull as well
https://artsandculture.google.com/asset/head-of-a-skeleton-with-a-burning-cigarette/hQGZa2I9Xi6lpA?hl=en
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AH, yes, that would have worked perfectly too.
Thanks, Bjorn. ❤
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I read this twice…..it is a brooding sense….a haunting piece.
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I enjoyed the peeling away of layers here to arrive at the words ‘ i Wait to be explored, I seek redemption….’
I love the vulnerability in these words
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Redemption just might come in the form of Karma. I am waiting myself…
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