Thursday, March 5, 2015

Adam & his brother



a hand, stitched in gossamer 
waits in the cold darkness
as if a seed, flowed out of dry river
as if a butterfly wing, searching
for wind's breath

the other hand is crimson
wrapped in energy & force-
straining and pulsing like 
welder's fire
silence is not his trademark 
but rapid arc movements 

he lifts his finger 
pointing at his half-dead brother
now drifting wood, chewed 
barren by bleak sky    
a flash of lightning sizzles,
waking up the sleeping hand 

who now grabs a stone  
to make fire & then writes
on palm leaves of his memories 
when he was in the womb, half remembering  
the cord 
there is hunger
as he searches where, how
he came to be 

the taste of fruit remains in his lips
as is the sound of clock
ticking inside the cave of his skin
His chest, clustered of red trees
echoes the same heart beat 
and though he raises both hands to the sky
in longing 

The two palms will never meet
across the universe
blackest of sea
untarnished, a clay ever birthing
cosmic void, expanding 
space
between the stars -


Posted for the D'verse Poets Pub - This is an old but unpublished poem which I have edited to include surprising conceit (pushing metaphors as far as I can) ~  

Thanks for the visit ~

31 comments:

  1. Powerful imagery, Grace. I can just picture those two palms reaching but never meeting. At times when I was reading this poem I felt as if I was reading about creation.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Powerful imagery. And knowing the story of murder makes it even more so. Note: Hayes Spencer is Kansakura

    ReplyDelete
  3. I agree with Mary, I read a creation myth throughout this beautiful poem - such strong imagery- love this particularly 'His chest, clustered of red trees
    echoes the same heart beat '

    ReplyDelete
  4. And the journey of dark and light blood does go on.. where dark makes red and light makes blood..and dark makes life....what life is now..:)

    ReplyDelete
  5. wow....this feels quite mythical...primal...the dawn of man...the tie to naute in the shared heartbeat is cool...the separation of man...the tie to the apple taken possibly...intriguing work grace....

    ReplyDelete
  6. Your poem made me think of Cain and Abel, and the first men exploring and creating for the first time.

    ReplyDelete
  7. Two never meeting yet knowing the other is there, a dawning indeed

    ReplyDelete
  8. Wow, I'm awestruck, this is magnificent! I'm so glad you decided to experiment by pushing a metaphor from a previous poem. I find that time away from a poem sometimes gives me new insights on how to continue to refine it.

    ReplyDelete
  9. the clock ticking inside the cave of his skin... that is my fav image here as it so brings across the image of time that we cannot escape in this world

    ReplyDelete
  10. I can just echo what Anna says.. Revisit the old poems pushing them even further gives it that extra edge,, and that dark crescendo in the last stanza really pushes this to dimension of mythology,

    ReplyDelete
  11. I was in the Sistine Chapel once - a lifetime ago. I read this and had to stop, and un-condense my memories - but that's when a poem is working. Nice

    ReplyDelete
  12. This made me think....if they were never to meet, they still have a lot in common ..the clustering of red trees is perfect here..as is 'clay ever birthing'.
    Smart and wise write, Grace

    ReplyDelete
  13. Not sure why, but this so reminds me of my kid brother, dead now seven years, who in so many ways was my twin (size, shape, inclination, gifts, damage). Did his dead hand lift to animate mine? Though I can't reach him, are words still the medium of our exchange, can we speak there the way we never got a chance to? Which hand reaches toward the other? Which is which? I often revise poems that way, not sure who's speaking, trying one vantage than another.

    ReplyDelete
  14. Adam and his brother--interesting start to a dizzying journey Grace. I went with a Christian thought as the words churned through, the birth the rebirth, the fire of Christ within compared to the Adam (man) of creation. I wonder if the two touch, maybe even walk the universe hand in hand until one is forced to remain in a place of clay and the other a place of unimaginable light.

    ReplyDelete
  15. Such a sensitive take on the picture, Grace--beautifully written.

    ReplyDelete
  16. there is something haunting about that picture you posted with this poem...and then the idea of one man reaching out for a dying brother makes for an interesting twist on the creation story of the original artwork that inspired the one you included

    ReplyDelete
  17. you really pushed the metaphors, Grace! a clay ever birthing
    cosmic void... the hint of fruit slipped in there - the apple? nice...

    ReplyDelete
  18. Wow, Grace. This is just striking. Stellar imagery throughout and a really moving close as well.

    ReplyDelete
  19. the taste of fruit remains in his lips
    as is the sound of clock
    ticking inside the cave of his skin

    those are my favorite lines in this pen ~

    ReplyDelete
  20. Well expressed, Grace. Hands of the brothers are so near, yet so far...

    ReplyDelete
  21. The last two stanzas really stand out for me..and this part is truly powerful

    His chest, clustered of red trees
    echoes the same heart beat
    and though he raises both hands to the sky
    in longing

    Hope you are enjoying your weekend Grace..

    ReplyDelete
  22. Exquisite. I can feel a good vs. evil story within this poem. The imagery is so vivid.

    ReplyDelete
  23. Brilliantly done, your words sublime.
    Anna :o]

    ReplyDelete
  24. I like the contrast between the creation theme, the play in the painting's title, and your poem (it's last stanza, in particular).

    ReplyDelete
  25. So much here. Bold, layered metaphors. Wonderful lines! "a hand, stitched in gossamer waits in the cold darkness" - an incredible beginning!

    ReplyDelete

Thank you for your comments and visit. I appreciate them ~