death is a red coquette
on your father’s fossil arm
its abyss forgotten and ungrieved
into cosseted veins of poetry,
but words mean nothing to you;
yellow dreams wept in her darkness,
and caitiff of mirrored dust, and bone consumed
moon-wept death in the waves and
fingertips of black lillies
nulling marrows in epicedium
of the bear’s wintered hibernation
the seasons that sail the sea-skulls
of saints against the tumulus sands;
I’ve written letters, ghost of a doll,
the candles salve in sea-foam, and I bled
the umbilical knot to my child moon.
© 2020 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved.
Written for the dVerse prompt: “Your challenge is to take FIVE (no more or less) from these 21 ‘charms’ and string them together in a poem with style and word length of your choosing.”
All phrases below are from “The pale Impromptu.”
Dim Accuracy; Candle salve; Consumed moon;
Eyes jealousy; Fouls deviation; Grey life;
Hearts brow; Lucid farrows; Nulling marrows;
Painted mirth; Pale heat; Palmed rose;
Pearls from tissue; Pellucid quest; Royal flesh;
Skulls of saints; Slime pigments; Spiritual songs;
Solitudes wish; Times chant; Yellow dreams;
This piece is also inspired by Where Evil Grows by The Poppy Family.
Reposted 5/14/2021.
53 responses to “I am a ghost to you.”
Appropriately surreal and moody for both the prompt and the season. Some startlingly imaginative lines not least:
“the seasons that sail the sea-skulls
of saints against the tumulus sands;”
thanks for joining in and making such good use of Greenberg’s charms!
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you, Laura, so much!
LikeLike
Ah, Lucy, this is my kind of poem! I love it all – even the ghost of a doll (I have doll phobia). It’s hard to pick out specific phrases and lines, but I was blown away by the sounds and images in the lines:
‘moon-wept death in the waves and
fingertips of black lilies’
and
‘the seasons that sail the sea-skulls
of saints against the tumulus sands’.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Aww, Kim, thank you. I’m glad to hear that. I do not have doll phobia, however, there is only one specific doll that will never fail to scare me still. They should be used in horror movies.
Anyway, about that line if it makes you feel better, I always visualize doll with a porcelain glass type figure. Thank you again for the kind and lovely comment. ❤ ❤
LikeLiked by 1 person
I love how you weaved the words in your wonderful style… The sea and the moon make me think of a separation that might be very close to death. Somehow I see the rage of the sea and the sailor’s mistress walking by the waves.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you, Bjorn. 🙂
LikeLike
This is deliciously dark and brooding! I so love the imagery here especially; “yellow dreams wept in her darkness, and caitiff of mirrored dust, and bone consumed moon-wept death in the waves.” I wish I’d written this! 😀
LikeLiked by 2 people
Aww, Sanaa, that means so much to me. I am flattered and honored by your kind words. ❤ ❤ ❤ I also really loved your poem for today’s prompt. You use evocative and sensual imagery that I could never dream up or conjure, it’s absolutely inspiring.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you! 😀
LikeLiked by 1 person
Not sure everything that’s going on in your poem but I love these lines:
“death[‘s]…abyss forgotten and ungrieved
into cosseted veins of poetry,”
LikeLiked by 1 person
You and me both, Lisa. It wasn’t even the other day when I was looking at an old poem, just wondering what I originally had in mind. Maybe it makes it fun that way when I forget the original meaning, so I can also be on the receiving end of “Just what in God’s name is Lucy on about now?” 😀 Haha.
Thank you for your feedback. I’m very happy you liked those lines!
LikeLiked by 1 person
lol Your comment makes my day. Such a fun attitude towards poetry.
LikeLiked by 1 person
lol I guessed which charms you’d use and to weave it around death is so appropriate for this one!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Ha. I’m too predictable! 😉 Thank you so much for the feedback.
LikeLiked by 1 person
The vividly striking opening stanza chillingly sent a ghostly shiver down my spin… superb Lucy..
“death is a red coquette
on your father’s fossil arm
its abyss forgotten and ungrieved
into cosseted veins of poetry,
but words mean nothing to you;”
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you greatly, Ivor.
LikeLike
OMG, you have cleverly, audaciously taken Greenberg’s charms, and shards of his darkness, and mingled it, morphed it, married it to you own uniqueness, darkness, and poetic verve. No mean feat–and you make it appear to be effortless–the mark of a good writer.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh, Glenn, thank you so very much! ❤ That means a lot to me to hear that, truly. You’ve made my week. Thank you.
LikeLike
You are a weaver of words, all of them hanging like pearls on a tenuous thread of suffering. I love these lines: “the seasons that sail the sea-skulls of saints against the tumulus sands” which seem to express so much of the persona’s sense of martyrdom. Wonderfully done, Lucy!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Dora, thank you so much. ❤
LikeLiked by 1 person
My pleasure.😊
LikeLiked by 1 person
kaykuala
of the bear’s wintered hibernation
the seasons that sail the sea-skulls
of saints against the tumulus sands;
Love the balance of words of quiet hibernation to the tumultuous ocean sands. It creates movements in the minds that make the poem alive. Great take Lucy!
Hank
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you very much, Hank!
LikeLike
Brilliant. A real masterpiece Lucy. The finale is breathtaking.
“I’ve written letters, ghost of a doll,
the candles salve in sea-foam, and I bled
the umbilical knot to my child moon.”
WOW.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, dear G. ❤ ❤ ❤ Means a lot.
LikeLiked by 1 person
My pleasure sweetheart 🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹
LikeLiked by 1 person
This is riveting. “But words mean nothing to you” and “I’ve written letters to you, ghost of a doll.”
Death hears nothing and ghosts are mere apparitions. A lot here Lucy!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you so much, Mary. 🙂
LikeLike
Masterfully rendered, Lucy…wowza!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you!
LikeLike
The tattoo on your dead father’s fossil arm is a nice touch of imagery…
Another great one Lucy.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Dwight!
LikeLiked by 1 person
A great poem indeed 😊
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, KK. 😊
LikeLike
I very much liked the opening image of death as a painted tart hanging on an old man’s arm but I’m not sure where the poem went after that. You know me, I like to get to the bottom of things 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
I will gladly give you the map for this poem, Jane. 🙂 My writing is more often than not a stream of consciousness so it doesn’t always make sense.
I describe a theme of abandonment in death. The narrator is speaking to themselves at first, before it switches in the point of view in the second stanza. The poem now describes the feelings of betrayal and abandonment, and as evinced in the last few lines in first person POV, the narrator will never be able to reach out to this person who is physically gone.
Thank you so much for the feedback. 🙂
LikeLike
Thanks for the map 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
This is a great poem for the season and a charmed use of Greenberg’s lines, Lucy!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you very much, Ingrid. ☺️
LikeLiked by 1 person
Loving the Poppy family – evil grows in me. The surreal ‘charms’ of Greenberg just melt into the dark roiling sea. Wonderful stuff.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Peter!
LikeLike
Gorgeously done 👌🏾
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you!
LikeLike
A pleasure
LikeLiked by 1 person
Wowo 🤩
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you so much, Yas. ❤️
LikeLiked by 1 person
You are very welcome, Lu🤗
LikeLiked by 1 person
I see many others like the sailing of sea-skulls too–not just a great image, but it sounds so delicious when you say it. Greenberg’s phrases fit perfectly into your dark visions. (K)
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you so much, K. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Wonderful words and beautiful imagery!!💫
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you so much!
LikeLike
A fantastic poem, very expressive
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you!
LikeLike