eyes of the lagoon.

Father of gunmetal, fingers and sap

kneeling to the blood-red of our faces

from my formaldehyde Grandfather,

in the black elms, a crown of sun pencils

on white skin, now the eyes I find of the lagoon

were treed in artichoke; father’s eyes are mine,

the shore is from the foolish matriarch, babushka’s daughter

and herself.

Occam’s razor had slit feet: bloodlines cannot drown us

from ancestor or ancestress to become their very worst.

Sand-thrown, gallows cripple upon the neck

the eyes that hanged upon father’s head,

burning, gnawing,

into the oak’s edge of wasteland knees

creaking and cracking to a child of stone,

less moonlight on the prey,

the swoon its death will bring, gripping no sea to swim

or ankle to grab quaked with sparred skins; steppes void

in ox eyes, a ghost of dead men,

what fools we must be to believe

that these things can change.

© 2020 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved.


Written for the dVerse prompt. I chose prompt 1.




Categories: Prose

Tags: , , , , , , , ,

51 replies

  1. Though it made me shiver, it is good.

    Liked by 4 people

  2. love the darkness of this. very Edgar Allen Poe. had me wanting to lisern to my favourite rendition of the raven.

    Liked by 4 people

  3. This is so well-written, Lucy. The savagery of bloodlines, the hunted and the prey, “steppes void/in ox eyes” — all evoke that hopeless sense of uninterrupted cycles.

    Liked by 3 people

  4. Fools and hope walk hand in hand. Most of the time it’s enough…

    Liked by 3 people

  5. Just as madness and genius lock arms, and love & lust share the same skin, your gothic filters find darkness at noon, and death in half-eaten grapefruits (which is unique, and clings to you wonderfully). I liked,”a crown of sun-pencils on white skin”–marvelous take on sun shafts of light.

    Liked by 4 people

  6. Great poem. I really liked this Lucy.

    Liked by 3 people

  7. We can’t stop leaving those ghosts in our wake…(K)

    Liked by 3 people

  8. This is a fabulous ghoulish poem. Love the bloodlines, ox eyes, and specially this part:

    the eyes that hanged upon father’s head

    Liked by 3 people

  9. Edgar Allen Poe would be proud of you, Lucy! Brilliant piece.

    Liked by 3 people

  10. I love the visual images and the metaphorical images in you poem. The pond with eye all around of every kind. And the thought that only a fool would believe you could change the cycle of nature. Very well done as always!

    Liked by 3 people

  11. Such a striking description of a ghostly kind of heredity. I LOVE ‘my formaldehyde Grandfather’ – so eye-catching 👁👌

    Liked by 1 person

  12. “Father of gunmetal” and I automatically imagined some cowboy movie for some reason. Love this poem

    Liked by 1 person

  13. Among the darkness of gunmetal and formaldehyde there is a beautiful lit-up moment, Lucy, which lends this poem its delicacy, the image in ‘a crown of sun pencils on white skin’. I also love the Gothic richness of the lines:
    ‘Sand-thrown, gallows cripple upon the neck
    the eyes that hanged upon father’s head,
    burning, gnawing,
    into the oak’s edge of wasteland knees
    creaking and cracking to a child of stone’.

    Liked by 2 people

  14. I’m imagining a father or grandfather who was hanged and the narrator having more sympathy with them than with the soft female heritage.
    ‘in the black elms, a crown of sun pencils on white skin,’ —I love that image.

    Liked by 3 people

  15. An extraordinary poem (as always!). And in the midst of all that’s dark and deathly, I was captivated by “in the black elms, a crown of sun pencils”. All I can say is, YES!

    Liked by 2 people

  16. Poe came to mind, and Nick Cave, that darkness of life as it is with no hope of change in the human condition, gritty and powerful.

    Liked by 2 people

  17. So many exquisite descriptions to indulge in….”treed in artichoke” , “oak’s edge of wasteland knees”, “ox eyes” and “quaked with sparred skins”. I like the dark side that “eyes” took you to.

    Liked by 3 people

  18. What a fool I must be.
    And how wonderful this was. ❤

    Liked by 1 person

  19. can feel the soul of Poe in your lines

    Liked by 1 person

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