Thursday, 10 January 2013

Underneath the Heaventree


'Winter Star Shower' ~ ©peterwilkin

‘The heaventree of stars hung with humid nightblue fruit’ ~ ‘Ulysses’, James Joyce


Under the icy light of a switched-on moon
yesterday’s snow crunched like sugar
as we gazed upon touchless stars,
tasted their carbon, their iron
melting on our tongues.

You wanted to give them something -
an oblation - but all you could find
in the shadowed garden was a rusted lamp
that you offered up to every flimmering sphere
of plasma in that far-flung, gas blown space.

Heart-shook, I confessed to feeling less than you.
You smiled and said you could see star-threads
connecting me to all the constellations.
Glancing heavenwards I caught sight
of a rose-pink glow centred in Cassiopeia’s breast:

a nipple stiffened in a blush of humility.
Tipped in her throne she showed no rancour
as the flow of her milky light nourished me.
Lush with astral sugar I began to drag down
all those luminous, spinning orbs.

You grabbed a flowerpot and dashed round
like a whitefaced clown, catching them
as they tumbled ... and all the merry dancers
sashayed across the blue vault
as your breath spilled out in brumes of argentine.
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23 comments:

  1. Awdures10 January 2013 at 14:15

    We're all on about the moon at the moment. Your little romp is great Pete, I'm always hungry after reading your words, the sweet light of the moon, then a tug on a nipple...there's nothing better!Great metaphor for a lunatic at the end. Maybe we all feel the waning pull of the supermoon at the turn of this new year?

    Keep writing lovely xx

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    1. Peter Wilkin11 January 2013 at 01:47

      Lol ~ what wonderful comments ~ thank you so much Shan. Yes, we are all moon-driven right now, poetically fuelled by the whole contents of the firmament & beyond. x

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  2. Martin10 January 2013 at 14:31

    A real joy to taste in your words! Love the intertwining of souls with the sky - "star-threads connecting me to all the constellations", the more physical allusions, and ... of course the secret of this intense, comet-like encounter. And what a wonderful quote!

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    1. Peter Wilkin11 January 2013 at 01:50

      Thank you ever so much Martin for your really positive comments ~ yes, I've adored that James Joyce quote ever since I first stumbled upon it as I trawled through Ulysses for the very first time.

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  3. marousia10 January 2013 at 14:53

    What a gorgeous vision - there is such ancient timelessness here - I love the little details in the garden - the rusted lamp and the flowerpot - you have really brought the wonder of the inner child to life in this - pure unadulterated joy! Love this!

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    1. Peter Wilkin11 January 2013 at 01:55

      Thank you for your utterly wonderful comments Marousia ~ yes, once I began the re-drafting process I felt a huge sense of playfulness surfacing, as if I was writing from inside a circus ring ... & the creative process seemed to spring from there :)

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  4. Jo-Anne Teal (jtvancouver)10 January 2013 at 23:32

    Peter, so glad I didn't miss the mention that a new poem had finally been posted on your blog. A happy start to 2013 :)) Your imagery moves and warms and delights. And as others will, no doubt, quote back to you, my favourite among my many favourites is: " a nipple stiffened in a blush of humility". Absolutely lovely!

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    1. Peter Wilkin11 January 2013 at 01:58

      Hi Jo-Anne ~ you are really kind, thank you ever so much. It was interesting to research the mythology surrounding Cassiopeia ... absolutely fascinating &, once I had, that line just seemed to surface :)

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  5. Anonymous10 January 2013 at 23:51

    Peter - extraordinary use of language to create the full flavour and texture of the narrated experience. Love your pace and rhythmic certainty. A wonderful piece of writing - striking in every good way. So glad to read it.

    And the image is bent beautifully to the theme.

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    1. Peter Wilkin11 January 2013 at 02:00

      Thank you so much for such lovely, constructive comments, Becky. It was quite a protracted write but, when it finally came together, it felt 'right'. I had the bones of the image in mind for a while ... just needed to sprinkle it with stardust ;)

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  6. Louise11 January 2013 at 00:45

    Well, that was a poem definitely worth waiting for..absolutely beautiful, Peter :) xo

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    1. Peter Wilkin11 January 2013 at 02:01

      Thank you ever so much Louise ~ so pleased you enjoyed it x

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  7. Anonymous11 January 2013 at 01:42

    All your crystalline magic comes to play in this exquisite little poem, Peter; "lush with astral sugar, I began to drag down all those luminous spinning orbs"..how lovely is that! and that final, breathlessly beautiful stanza. I also love the notion that someone made you aware of this heavenly beauty, awakening you to it...and u finally run around with flower pots catching all this beauty ...almost like others reminding u of your poetic gift...and u finally gathering your starkissed words to save, work and weave for our pleasure. More, Peter-poet...more!

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    1. Peter Wilkin11 January 2013 at 02:08

      Wow! Thank you Jackie for such a sensational comment. Yes, I guess it was a poem of a discovery: Cassiopeia in particular but also the unfathomable wonder of life above us ... & it's all been given to us for nothing ... though we should surely stop frequently & acknowledge such an incredible gift. And I love the parallel that you draw between my writing & the content of the poem ... I'd not thought about that at all but there's a big truth in there somewhere. Once again, huge thanks x

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  8. Joseph Hesch11 January 2013 at 05:18

    As much as I complain about winter, there's always something magical about moonlight on the snow, Pete. And you carry your own magic to bring it to us in such a beautiful manner.

    Glad you're feeling better, my friend! :)

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    1. Peter Wilkin11 January 2013 at 11:10

      Thanks for such a lovely comment, Joe ~ yes, there is something special about moonlight resting on a layer of snow. Really pleased you enjoyed my poem so much :)

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  9. jmbhatt11 January 2013 at 05:46

    This is cosmic salvation for me. Wonderful work that transcends the mundane & let one touch the celestial ever so briefly. The phonetics is of highest order. Superb!!!

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    1. Peter Wilkin11 January 2013 at 10:50

      What a lovely comment ~ thank you so much Jyotindra, really pleased you connected with my poem so deeply :)

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  10. The Linnet11 January 2013 at 11:27

    When I wandered blindly into that disused page of your blog, I had no idea it would lead to this. A single lonely poem sat seemingly forgotten. But you took it back into the warm and nurtured it, allowed it to flourish and grow.

    This poem is now the resplendent swan it was always destined to be. I liked it as it was but it is utterly divine now, sat with all your other beautiful and thought provoking poems.

    I smile as I can imagine you and Ally in the garden in the moonlit snow :)

    Really love it, one of your very best!

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    1. Peter Wilkin11 January 2013 at 11:39

      Well, it owes its rebirth entirely to you, Abi ... though it took me a while to 'get it right' I always felt it would come to fruition at some point. And then I made the Joycean connection & everything came together ... certainly not the first time I've been inspired by that incredible man. And yes, it was pitched in the garden when I first began to create it. If I recall Ally & me had been looking at the stars in wonder & the seeds for the poem came from those moments. Again, thank you so much Abi for shaking me out of my comfort zone & for your absolutely wonderful comments ~ so very much appreciated :)

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  11. Anonymous13 January 2013 at 22:59

    Wow, Peter! I like the way you let me taste the stars, that we cannot touch, but are made of. The second last stanza is definitely the heart of the poem, our birth, our nourishment from the stars. Stunning poem. Q xx

    (blog is giving me a hard time publishing my comment)

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    1. Peter Wilkin18 January 2013 at 11:38

      Thanks ever so much Quirina ~ I'm afraid my blog is very antisocial & unfriendly :( So even more thanks for persevering & leaving such a lovely comment. I agree ~ we owe it all to those wonderful, mysterious, magical, spinning orbs :)

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  12. hyperCRYPTICal25 January 2013 at 18:55

    Stunning write - so glad I found here.

    Anna :o]

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