Friday, April 30, 2010

Starting Over


The ritual drowning of poems
only to turn your back on that muddy river

and find a halo around an apple tree
up to its bough in sin.

(first publication)


Updates:
“Starting Over” added to Poems, Slightly Used.

In the Forum: snippet in the bud.

12 comments:

Elisabeth said...

The religious references here are powerful. I love the notion of the 'halo around an apple tree
up to its bough in sin.'

Wonderful.

Joseph Hutchison said...

This is a breath-taking poem, William. Saturated with what I call imaginal energy--the way the you help us stand in the physical and psychic world and feel the double nature of things. Beautiful!

Caio Fernandes said...

good moviment of words ... some of then are very personal to me .
great !

Janice said...

Your poems come from so deep in your heart William...beautiful~~~

William Michaelian said...

Thanks, Elisabeth, I’m glad it registered with you the way it did. The phrase arrived as sound, and I’ve been catching up to its meaning ever since.

Joe, it feels like you’re speaking from inside a waterfall; I think I’ll join you, and maybe we can exchange rainbows....

Good to hear, Caio. As you’ve said before, here we are, from different generations, cultures, and backgrounds, somehow speaking each other’s language. I’m grateful for that.

Janice, thank you. In minutes, the poem didn’t take long at all to write. But my own experience is that each new piece, short, long, drawing, or otherwise, really takes a lifetime up to the moment it arrives. And a lifetime, like the heart, is a deep well — especially when you fall in.

Joseph Hutchison said...

I am! "The way the you help us..." I was distracted from my spelling by a gaping trout flying by....

vazambam said...

Amen, brother--this spirit is moved!

William Michaelian said...

Joe, you should have weighed your words on that fish’s scale....

Good news, Vassilis — and somewhere on that tree, hidden among its leaves, is a shiny new poem with your name on it....

Obiterspeak said...

dear sir, perhaps "a ritual drowning" is not required (seems rather drastic and final), although a good hiding might be in order... in order to avoid sin?

thank you for the pleasure of following your work :)

William Michaelian said...

And thank you for following. It does all sound a bit dramatic, doesn’t it? But the nearest volcano is several hours’ drive, and, well, sometimes we just have to make do.

ALeks said...

Ode to Sadness

Sadness, scarab
with seven crippled feet,
spiderweb egg,
scramble-brained rat,
bitch's skeleton:
No entry here.
Don't come in.
Go away.
Go back
south with your umbrella,
go back
north with your serpent's teeth.
A poet lives here.
No sadness may
cross this threshold.
Through these windows
comes the breath of the world,
fresh red roses,
flags embroidered with
the victories of the people.
No.
No entry.
Flap
your bat's wings,
I will trample the feathers
that fall from your mantle,
I will sweep the bits and pieces
of your carcass to
the four corners of the wind,
I will wring your neck,
I will stitch your eyelids shut,
I will sew your shroud,
sadness, and bury your rodent bones
beneath the springtime of an apple tree.

Pablo Neruda

Hallo William,beautiful poem you wrote,here is one from one for you and it from one of my favourites,warm greetings!
Aleksandra!

William Michaelian said...

That’s wonderful, Aleksandra! My thanks for this, and for your visit, and good wishes to you, too.