Memory of Stones, Reminders to Forget — A Sestina
A bed of dry sticks and umber stones
lacks comfort enough to make you forget
how your scraped, skinned palm always reads
in that other dream
where you run hard and long,
eager to measure the lifespan of fleeing birds.
In the time I've listened to sad black birds
scratch hollow songs into hollow stones,
I've rubbed both palms together, trying to remember how long
and how far we've come, our season to forget
behind us. What those ravens must dream
I imagine no other but I reads
in so quick a flash of silk-lined wing. What another reads
as passing quick, I foresee as the fateful muster of birds
seeking, seeking, as ever in my own dream
I look for signs, clues, and secrets below stones
newly turned and freed of hard clay. What I forget
is the length of a day pulled from memory, its long
trail pinned in the mind's recess. I long
for the blossom of lemon and orange, thin reeds
of yarrow, syringa twinned with thyme to forget
how emblems of sorrow on the breasts of birds
stand in for feelings. Pick through the broken stones
laid down before you and tell me your good night's dream.
A spell cast with a sprig of yew disturbs the dream
I had of you and me to replay our history long
pushed deep but slower still to recover from stones
set loose in summer storms. No pleasing lover reads
his palm the same a second time. Nor can birds
resist the rush to seek new heights; having fallen, they forget
the steepness of their climb toward clouds, they forget
how day slips its mood into night, how a broken wing fails a dream
seen lived in the eyes of so many other black birds,
every one and each unlike them. What message you would long
ago have spared to send is spent in haste, and I who read
the silence in the too-tight space count every stone.
Which of us would dream, the other, after, reads
in the leaves that have long lined the nests of bitter birds:
that memory of stones, these reminders to forget.
© 2011 Maureen E. Doallas
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This is my first effort to record myself:
Audio Recording of Memory of Stones, Reminders to Forget by mdoallas
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
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23 comments:
You make this look easy, and I know a sestina is anything but easy. I read tyhis, and I listen, and I can sense the building intensity. Excellent, Maureen.
I loved hearing you read your poem!
Wonderful!
Good work! I love your reading of this sestina, Maureen...nice to hear you@
you have a wonderful reading voice.
it really helps to have you reading this as i follow along on the printed page. i like it very much!
there is something very nice about being read to. hearing a voice. having the words in print helps me to digest them, but the voice makes it more ...something...what is it? it gives it more human connection...i think.
This is a fine and devastatingly well put together sestina. The imagery repeats in perfect collusion with the keyword language and the symbols they both contain. That transition between the second and third stanza really launches this into flight, and the tornada brings it back to roost. The mechanics are seamless and fluid and very much under the hood.
Fine writing, and I don't mean merely in a technical sense.
very nice...sestina is not easy by far but you play it well...you have a lovely reading voice...thank you for sharing it...smiles.
"What those ravens must dream
I imagine no other but I reads
in so quick a flash of silk-lined wing. What another reads
as passing quick, I foresee as the fateful muster of birds
seeking, seeking, as ever in my own dream
I look for signs, clues, and secrets below stones
newly turned and freed of hard clay."
The flow here is magnificent Maureen
Beautiful. I read and listened.
If stones could talk, what stories they could tell.
Wonderful sounds and images. Well done!
I echo everybody before me. Listening to your voice and following along with the visual has a different impact rather than just reading alone.
Beautiful sentiments. I especially like the ending.
I'm here:
The Evening Wind
Kudos on the sestina!
Wow, what a tour de force!
Wow, what a tour de force!
This was a very special treat ... to both read and hear ... thank you.
this is absolutely stunning, Maureen. I believe, one of your most lyrical and powerful and tender-- perhaps to build a new collection around. xxxj
..i like the cover title, i like the message, i like the forms, i like clarity, oh i like the whole thing 'bout this poem... and i believe you're gifted with a soft-spoken voice just, if i may suggest, try to read slower the next time... peace!(:
Brightest blessings!
~Kelvin
A beautiful piece Maureen in everyway...I am going to come back and listen to your reading....but this is a piece that is exquisite to read the image perfect...bkm
This bears reading and listening many times, truly stellar.
Poems are best recieved aloud. Thanks for the reading and the form effort. Oh, and the content delivers on that great title!
So complex, this structure and the threads that pull through the entire fabric (stones, dreams, birds). I could really get the full weft of it from your audio reading. Please continue recording!
What depth you've given this piece with your vocal expression. Beautiful...
Brilliant, Maureen. And your reading of it opens it up like a complete garden. Your voice is so lovely, and I am convinced once again how important it is to listen to poems. Your language is lovely, with birds and stones, and in your voice I believe even stones live.
"I long/
for the blossom of lemon and orange, thin reeds
of yarrow, syringa twinned with thyme to forget
how emblems of sorrow on the breasts of birds
stand in for feelings."
That. Wow, oh.
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