0 (Queer Stranger): (Day 12 of 100 -- Poetry Challenge)

in poetry •  7 years ago  (edited)

apple.jpg

Screen Shot 2018-03-18 at 5.50.52 PM.png

                (Queer Stranger)

O what sweetness
green meadows
fruit hanging heavy from
well-rooted trees
golden rays showering down
a yellow sun warming the land
black holed Sol toroidal
field spinning in balance
possibilities like butterflies
glitter the landscape
dreams of potential
ever in bloom
a stretch just within reach
how honeyed the air is
in and onto itself

O wandering child-prince
severed twin of severed parents
go forth, be strange,
mad, and mirthful
you have a code on your
breath, a message to
Sophia’s dreaming vessel
a king to slay before you can
take of the fruit’s nectar
or pour of the honey-wine
and meet your zero point
you must be fallen
to rise from your starry
dream

O spotless swan of the lake
of the non-healing wound
Pole Star, north wind risen from
blackness into Dawn, rise anew
rise into the void at the center
rise again and

claim your Journeyman's Stave

Screen Shot 2018-03-18 at 6.06.09 PM.png

  • All pieces are newly crafted and posted shortly after in adherence to the rules of the challenge. All the photos are mine unless otherwise stated.

  • The top photo is a detail shot of one of my oil paintings.

  • Entry for Day 12 of 100 Days of Poetry Challenge by @d-pend.

  • Join the Steemit School here: https://discord.gg/yZvYjfM organized by @dobartim on Discord.

Authors get paid when people like you upvote their post.
If you enjoyed what you read here, create your account today and start earning FREE STEEM!
Sort Order:  

The Fool, is there anyone for whom it is not the favourite card? Or second favourite card? Is it not the card we all wish to see ourselves in? Ok, fine, some people like to see themselves as The Magician, or might even settle for The Emperor, but those people are boring. We're not talking about them.

Who does not wish to see themselves as The Fool? Though never quite Foolish. Isn't that how it always goes? We want to not be seen as foolish, as mere jesters, yet we wish to see ourselves as the plucky derring-doers of doing stuff, and stuff. We wish to see ourselves as those who do not care what others may think of them, as those willing to take risks. Except we don't take risks, because we fear what others may think of us. In fact, more than we care to see ourselves as The Fool, we wish others to see The Fool in us. Except for when we don't.

The Fool is about that moment, even, because it knows we need new lands to be the fools in. One cannot go on adventure, no, not in lands they know, but in lands where they are known. So known that they are quantified, and nobody listens to the lyricity of your words, because why do they need to listen?

So many different images of The Divine Fool one can see in this poem. One can see the card, when one reads the poem. One can see more than one card, even. An adventure, with food to spare. The sun, is there, is a hole, is warm, is drawing all warmth away. Potential, and journeys. What is, and what is yet to be.
To go on adventure once more. To be The Fool, truly.

The second stanza is where it actually gets interesting. How many child-kings and daughter-princesses are there? The Fool is now within the realm of the brothers, the grimm ones. Who is the twin? Is it us? Could we have been him, and free, had we been with the parents? And they too are severed, for we are the King, and there is a lake. Fisher King, the sister saving her seven brothers from evil witchcraft, and she must dance, and sew, and be silent, and search in nettles. Wounds upon wounds. To bleed unto the land, but where is the Lady of the Lake? Did she fly away, after she has saved her brothers? And where will the king's sword come from then?

But you know, if you ask me, it wouldn't be stolid Arthur who is The Fool, but Gallahad.

The Fool. What may be. Not one story, but many. Not one dream, but them all. This begins in Tarot. Imagery that is exact, yet differs across times and artists. Imagery that stands for dreams, and is just as malleable. Imagery and dream that beget stories we tell our children, like stories of the future, that are stories of the past.

And who is The Fool? But a dream, but a dream. Unless you find the right sister. The right soothsayer. And marry her. Though you will bleed, as will she. And the land will grant you green meadows, and heavy fruit, and honey-wine.
But is it worth?
To ask, is to betray The Fool.
O great Zero.

(And is this comment too much, and perhaps not directly rooted enough to the piece? Oh, fool that I am, I wonder, for I am not Fool enough.)

I sure am glad we chat live.... lol.

I am in deep gratitude of your analysis. <3

Ironic, that we ended speaking of this poem yesterday rather than all the ones that we said we would.

Boy, but do we need to spend a day just talking poetry, and then a day just talking of talking of poetry, and... we need an eternity to talk, Niish <3

Very nice! Have you ever done (or considered doing) a full Tarot deck?

Yes, in fact I have. ;)

Una nueva versión de un cuento de hadas, @mamadinis. Más contemporáneo. Está llena esa primera estrofa de muchos colores, dándole vida a ese paisaje casi mágico. La simbología de la fruta como elemento provocador y maligno está muy bien lograda. Te felicito. Es tu día 12. Suerte

Muchas gracias.

El viaje que todos debemos tomar. ;)

Lo siento, mi español no es muy bueno.

Well this certainly gets a brava from me. From the title to the last line ... a-one poetic story telling. You brought home, mamadini.

<3

Thank you kindly. It was a lovely ponder today.

Your Post Has Been Featured on @Resteemable!
Feature any Steemit post using resteemit.com!
How It Works:
1. Take Any Steemit URL
2. Erase https://
3. Type re
Get Featured Instantly & Featured Posts are voted every 2.4hrs
Join the Curation Team Here | Vote Resteemable for Witness