See, here
in my hand
gold flecked
red orb
***
And if I flaunt
Myself
On the highest bough
Just out of reach
Of your grasping hand
And if I offer my skin
To the wild birds
And if the wasp sips
At my wounds
What then?
What then?
***
Temptation
Is a scent
Sense
Of sweetness
Floating by
***
Cornish gilliflower
Pig’s nose
Golden knob
Oaken pin
Slack ma girdle
Farmer’s glory
***
Blackbird sharp stabbing
Piercing smooth skin russet red
Autumn gifts scattered
***
I always want to shout
“Don’t eat the rosy side”
But the old woman always tempts her
And she never hears me
***
I peel it carefully
Green writhing
Away from the knife,
Whispering the secret
Of his name
***
You hold green
Sour sweet
Mouth music
Singing always
***
In the warm kitchen
I stir the autumn
Cloves and cinnamon
Warm the long nights.
***
White flesh shatters in my hot mouth.
This is what Bjorn calls cubist poetry – I think. Check it out at dVerse.
This is exactly what I call cubist poetry… I can really see the way you turned the subject of an apple and gave it life… The references to blackbird works so well, and yes Snowwhite too… splendid.
LikeLike
Thank you. It was interesting to almost free associate in a structured way. And I’m slightly obsessed with – and overwhelmed by – apples at the moment.
LikeLike
It’s that time of the year… 🙂
LikeLike
🍏
LikeLike
From tree to pie. A spare but lush poem to a simple fruit. Enjoyed the read.
LikeLike
Sarah! I love this too much to name. I love the fairytales that made their subtle way between the lines. I love the luscious descriptions that make me want the fruit. I love that stunner – STUNNER – of a last line. Whew. Love.
LikeLike
These are wonderful, Sarah. Yes, truly cubist, imagist. That last line is just a perfect finale. I just ate an apple, too!
LikeLike
It was fun playing with different voices.
LikeLike
Interesting advice about not easing the rosy side.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Never eat the rosy side, my friend. It leads to glass coffins and goodness’ knows what else…
LikeLike
Too good. Especially love this..
…And if the wasp sips
At my wounds
What then?
What then?
…wow!!!
LikeLike
A wonderful apple scented poem, Sarah.I love this stanza:
‘ I peel it carefully
Green writhing
Away from the knife,
Whispering the secret
Of his name’
which reminds me of peeling apples with my grandmother and saying the rhyme ‘Apple peel, apple peel, tell me true, who am I going to get married to.’ Made my morning!
LikeLike
Love this phrase: “Sense / Of sweetness / Floating by” — just brilliant.
LikeLike
Those references to Snow White and Adam and Eve were really clever. There are so many varieties of apples and I’m guessing that your list must be some I’m not familiar with. Loved this!
LikeLike
We planted a small orchard of local (Devon) varieties about 7 years ago. We don’t have a Pig’s Nose, sadly, but one of our neighbours can remember one growing by our gate. Slack Ma Girdle was a birthday present from a cider making friend last year. I love the names so much, I’d love to know the story behind each of them…
LikeLike
Apples don’t grow here in Florida but we enjoy eating them year round and the names aren’t nearly as fun as the ones you have there! I’d like to know the story behind those names too…thanks for sharing, Sarah!
LikeLike
Brilliant! I could smell and taste the words.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you. I don’t usually do a midweek challenge, but I couldn’t resist this one.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Love this, Sarah! Right to the core!
LikeLiked by 1 person
🍏🍎🍏🍎🍏🍎🍏
LikeLike
I LOVED this plle scented peel writhing poem…the fairy tales, the Adam and Eve, the names of the heirloom apples. I remember such apples from my childhood on my great grandfather’s farm. Some had been brought over as seeds from England two hu dred years ago. Wonderful sweet knobby apples. Excellent imagist cubist images of apples.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Delicious in imagery, scent, and taste! I was there with you, delighting in the tale of the apple and that first bite.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’ll never look at an apple in the same way again.
LikeLiked by 1 person
…the wasp sips at my wounds…These words are an amazing insight.
You’ve taken something so absolutely normal and everyday – an apple — and described it from so many different perspectives – we can see it, feel it, remember it’s place in a biblical story, smell it with cinnamon, and see it on a banquet table stuffed into the succulent pig’s snout! Very very well done! A cubist’s delight!
LikeLike
Thank you so much. I loved this form! I think it suited my flitty flighty brain…
LikeLiked by 1 person