Wednesday, 20 August 2008

Cardoons

Long greying arms wave
in celebration of the sky.

Bobbing spiny stars
like church bosses
carved in ancient wood
support your heads into Autumn.

Silvery leaves crack
multi jointed
like stick insect limbs.

Thin unsure fingers 
prickle around something forgotten
that has slipped away.

Your choke has faded
this blue bee heaven
is sucked barren.
Now a hairy tuft
spun erratic at it's edges
like an old Terrier's eyebrow
it brushes the breeze.

Reptilian bracts
protect a globe.

Quiet tongues listen
to your purple heart.

I've just had a fun hour of playing around with words on screen. It was tempting to post several versions of this poem as it made it's way into this finished form, however, I think that is probably of more interest to me than anyone else, so I will spare you the repetition! However, my current fascination with poetry is to do with the actual reading of it and how that can change the sense and the meaning of the piece. I knew that 'Cardoons' was going to be a poem as soon as I began it, but given that I usually write prose, I wanted to post this version as well. Interested to see which version speaks best.

Cardoons  2
Long greying arms wave in celebration of the sky. Bobbing spiny stars, like church bosses carved in ancient wood, support your heads into Autumn. Silvery leaves crack, multi jointed like stick insect limbs. Thin unsure fingers prickle around something forgotten that has slipped away.

Your choke has faded, this blue bee heaven is sucked barren. Now a hairy tuft, spun erratic at it's edges like an old Terrier's eyebrow, it brushes the breeze. Reptilian bracts protect a globe. Quiet tongues listen to your purple heart.