Darkly overhead on wings of dead-and-gone
to woods where feeble ferns are teeth, and tongues
where from the drying throats: a suitors’ voice
a praise of clay and stone, demanding choice:
Of scars: a legacy to rot: a quest
to cage her as the uninvited guest.
She seeks the pressure of his booted heel.
She meets his ember heat that make her feel
his naked heart of ash and icicles
When warmth has slipped it’s no more difficult,
she meets the paleness of the reaper’s scythe
and in the miry paths, his woods, the blithe
of dreamless sleep and once again my girl:
the treasured child becomes protected pearl.
La Mort: C’est moi qui te rends sérieuse; enlaçons-nous by Odilon Redon
Once again we have Open Link at dVerse, and Mary is hosting. Bar opens at 3PM EST. I hope I’ll meet you there.
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September 3, 2015
Björn Rudbergs writings 
Ooh. Gave me the shivers. >
This is quite a dense verse. It feels a bit of danse macabre, or a dance with death. I feel the contrast between the coldness and the hear, but I dont feel a fear in it, maybe a strength. The pearl image seems like the closing of the coffin.
This poem, written with such a cold tone, make me feel as if iciness of this poem. There is no warmth in evidence and no human kindness. Lines such as “She seeks the pressure of his booted heel” give it a very eerie feel. Somehow the ‘treasured child’ doesn’t seem very treasured at all.
A lovely piece, nice rhythm.
I went back and read it again, maybe I didn’t understand it at all? But I enjoyed it…
I think it’s a variation of Hansel and Gretel. I see it being about a young, innocent girl happening upon what she believes to be an inviting, friendly cottage in the woods. But come to find out, a dangerous man lives there, and he ensnares her. Maybe it’s a kidnapping scenario. He abuses her, she grows to like/crave it as he messes with her head. But by the end, I think you’ve rescued her and you’re going to keep her safe because you have far better intentions than he. This reminds me of some of the books I’ve read about the psychological damaging done to kidnapping victims, the way they come to love and defend their captors. Even after they’re rescued, they suffer damages for a long time, if not forever. So maybe you’re like her dad, best friend, lover … the one who has to help her pick up the pieces after she’s been set free.
Damn, brother, you have brought a cold sensuality to death, a demonic dance of loss, or capitulation, of conquest; like the lore of powerful vampires; everlasting orgasmic sex, betrayed by their own body. So very dark, sure, as some of your other poetics are, but really just an exercise in aesthetics, far from real emotional despair. I like the lines
/a suitor’s voice/a praise of clay & stone, demanding choices/.
What a chilling and dark sonnet ~ I specially admire the rhyming scheme and cadence of:
she meets the paleness of the reaper’s scythe
and in the miry paths, his woods, the blithe
The ending line is such an unexpected twist ~
of dreamless sleep and once again my girl:
the treasured child becomes protected pearl.
Love the closing lines 🙂
Maybe I just have the seasons on my mind, but I see this as the shift from summer/fall to winter… I love the language used, and the dark mood, even as it does make me shiver, in more ways than one!
Björn, you do know your way around some words I’ll give you that. Chilling, yet darkly sensual this contrast of fire and ice sends shivers either way.
Lovely dark words and I must admit I don’t quite understand its meaning – but think maybe Kelly might be right?
Kind regards
Anna :o]
Dark and feeling the sense of Edgar Allen Poe.
Such remarkable words you always choose on your poetry. Lovely.
🙂
P.S I posted a Brand new poem. You will certainly relate maybe to my piece. check it out. 🙂
really nice,
This is very much like a dark fairytale. And aren’t they all dark? It’s chilling and beautifully written. I wonder if you ever record your poetry, Bjorn. This would sound wonderful read aloud.
I like the way the words dance between darkness and light. It reminds me of The Phantom of the Opera.
Not the same rhythm but this puts me in mind of the dark and sensual writings of Poe. It seems maybe September has some of us thinking of endings, of soon to come coldness. The shell enclosing the pearl, the casket lid enclosing the girl…..this also puts me in mind of some of your previous poems. Maybe someday, students will be studying your use of the pearl as a symbol for death. Interesting write.
once again, great imagery.
Chilling and dark, a good write.
Not sure I get the meaning in its entirety, but “legacy to rot” is making me think it surely is about death and the thereafter…maybe not. Intriguing.
So intense, with a wonderful use of rhyme.
Spooky, sinister, and even the punctuation is odd, macabre.
Suitor males..
only weapon
skin red..
heArt fails
ashes fall
what comes
may will next..
what
grows
not
heart..
perhaps
what is hidden
grows more Feel
a woman’s heart
so much more
than above
so
below heArt i LOVE..:)
Masterful and bizarre sonnet…his “ash and icicle” heart chills me but the final “treasured pearl” is luminescent.
Killer opening line! What a hook!
This is intense and packed with such skilled use of form (which lends to the overall effect) and poetic techniques such as slant rhyme and alliteration. I envy your ease with this type of poem.
‘when warmth has slipped’ – what a perfect turn of phrase, emblematic of the whole ~
Your title and the image led me to expect a dark poem, and you surely gave us that. This superb sonnet links the season inextricably with death.
Feebly ferns or feeble ferns? (Sorry, Bjorn!)
No reason to be sorry.. yes of course.. I got a little excited with the word feebly picked from Bleak House.. Hmm I will change it to feeble..
Very dark tone. I’m certain that I didn’t get all of what you were saying, but still enjoyed this very much.
I liked the use of the colons, which kept things flowing and added meaning to the words. Dark!