Saturday, March 27, 2010

Venus

Not within the wasteful scallop's shell
but in a dawning royal dumpling of nematocysts
tressed with kissing and yawning tentacles
violet and midnight blue, Sweet,
did you rise from the winnowing crests
and pilot yourself, alewife
slithering out of the streams,
squirming across night-wetted grass,
worming your way into so much clay
beset by breath, to feed.

8 comments:

Jenny said...

So beautfully written, Claude. I admire your ability to make a microcosm perspective feel universal yet intimate.

Anonymous said...

I love this poem! This part got stuck in my head:

"worming your way into so much clay
beset by breath, to feed"

I often feel like that actually.

Megan Duffy said...

Gorgeous. There is a liquid quality to the sound of it that I just love.

Anders said...

I love this one. So very full of life, like the marsh during the dark.

The Scrybe said...

A wonderful poem, I love its flow. I also like that I am now aware of nematocysts; beware the venomous cells..

Francis Scudellari said...

A wonderful re-imagining of Venus. Stunning visuals.

human being said...

the presence of the feminine soul... with all its mythical history... hidden in the exquisite imagery...

the dark part of the cosmos... yin
sting... snake... giving through killing...
dying to be born...
like the fall from heaven
to soar... toward eternity...



namaste!

Claudette Cohen said...

Thanks so very much, everyone, for your comments. They are insightful and inspiring. Peace.