You are raining
pins on me,
Contortionist – I never dreamed
You’d stick the arch, the hook,
Shoots like sturdy stakes;
Folding in and in and in, a letter
Like a leaden foot battering
The brake.
Who hewed these slots? The
Bristled gates of pressure pods where
You could roost. O the glut of you, marsh,
Manuscript, movement –
You fat socialite, benevolently drenching my net.
As if you were some miracle,
Some mercy worm.
Your face rips to a grin.
Patient raider, the fugitive in a pivot. I
Bathe in flapping puddles untried, tumbling
Through the new, the new, the new.
But you’ve a beak, a beak like a key,
Like a blade, like a screw –
I retract my leg.
The post is in.
Immobilizer! Maturing at my pace – Why
Do you? You were a baby made of
Candles once, globular and glowing, an
Egg-headed irritant. But now you are
Arthritis, diamond birthright. And each
Delivery, an adding of
That acrid spice.
Snaky wraith, your brute braids
Bite at my every opportunity. These
Stirring lynches collar, creep, cajoling me.
I am purple Cerberus, my
Six eyes scabbed –
I do not want to see.
© 2015 BENJAMIN SMITH
Contortionist – I never dreamed
You’d stick the arch, the hook,
Shoots like sturdy stakes;
Folding in and in and in, a letter
Like a leaden foot battering
The brake.
Who hewed these slots? The
Bristled gates of pressure pods where
You could roost. O the glut of you, marsh,
Manuscript, movement –
You fat socialite, benevolently drenching my net.
As if you were some miracle,
Some mercy worm.
Your face rips to a grin.
Patient raider, the fugitive in a pivot. I
Bathe in flapping puddles untried, tumbling
Through the new, the new, the new.
But you’ve a beak, a beak like a key,
Like a blade, like a screw –
I retract my leg.
The post is in.
Immobilizer! Maturing at my pace – Why
Do you? You were a baby made of
Candles once, globular and glowing, an
Egg-headed irritant. But now you are
Arthritis, diamond birthright. And each
Delivery, an adding of
That acrid spice.
Snaky wraith, your brute braids
Bite at my every opportunity. These
Stirring lynches collar, creep, cajoling me.
I am purple Cerberus, my
Six eyes scabbed –
I do not want to see.
© 2015 BENJAMIN SMITH
(dVERSE Poetry Pub prompt: Poetics - Layers)
Goodness. This is just an incredible, descriptive piece.
ReplyDeleteThis line GRABS: "Your face rips to a grin." -- fantastic verb here.
I hear echoes of Bukowski, fingerlings of Ginsberg, the spirit of L. Cohen (especially in lines like /you fat socialite, benevolently drenching my net/as if you were some miracle/some mercy worm/.) A terrific poem on all counts, never heard arthritis so poetically portrayed; dug it.
ReplyDeleteThis is awesome.
ReplyDeletemy mom suffers from arthritis in her knees - and some days she can hardly walk... nice personification here... can def. be read as a metaphor as well..
ReplyDeleteI'm happy you see the piece as a metaphor, Claudia. It was written in a way that used this joint pain as such. I'm sorry to hear about your mother's suffering with such a debilitating ailment :( Although I'm only twenty-four, I do have days where my knees ache. Thank you for reading!
DeleteArthritis .. is black creature of life that TG comes and goes for me.. and for now.. after two years of mostly pain free.. i chase it away farther.. in every way i can..:)
ReplyDeleteThe way you have made arthritis into a an entity or god. First it read almost like a prayer for mercy, the second time I find other layers that are more descriptions of being immobilized. The scansion make me want to read it loud.. Love it Benjamin.
ReplyDeleteEffectively descriptive, arthritis personified.
ReplyDeleteYou nailed it - this is often how my hands, wrists, shoulders and knees feel with arthritis. Good layers, personification of the disease done in a way that makes me think of Ginsberg. A rhythm is in the words that moves on through the poem.
ReplyDeleteTo me - this reminded me of someone who brings us unrelenting suffering, someone we cannot ignore.
ReplyDeleteYou are spot on about the first part. Thank you for reading!
Delete"The post is in." This one line, standing alone in the middle, simple as it is, says so much about struggle and perseverance. Peace, Linda
ReplyDelete