Phantasmagoric
red gold,
last breath to bind them
or myself–I’m not sure; a shadow is a shadow
then so am I until I vanish
into the winter of the bears,
I ask that you do not find me;

I want to be played by tragic lutes,
the first scene like the half of bread
the last scene, the final act to the sip
of wine over the ashes of her eyes
the mother ossification of itself
stealing yet another life
from her eyes—

play the hero or the key
in a dancing syllable from the shore,
neither satiated or hungered
silhouetted in bliss. 

© 2021 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved. 

Written for the dVerse prompt: Let’s look to our middles and see if we can build in dramatic turns, open a new window, pick a sonnet or a haiku, write in blank verse or pentameter, just show us your best turns.

34 thoughts on “ bliss or suffering. ”

  1. This is incredibly evocative! I love; “I want to be played by tragic lutes, the first scene like the half of bread the last scene, the final act to the sip of wine over the ashes of her eyes.”💝💝

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I’ve always loved the word “Phantasmagoria” – it’s certainly a delight to see it being utilized as a crown for this twisting piece of poetry. Having followed you now for a week or so, I feel like I’m beginning to get used to the wonderful language you play with: the connections you seem to form from thought to word to image to screaming lamentation to self-embracing sigh. I’m delighted to read this aloud, wondering what you put in that I seem to pull out.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Oh wow, Masa, thank you so very much for your thoughts! I feel honored that you could feel such way from my poetry. ❤ It means a lot to me and it pushes me to write even more.

      Like

  3. Fine write Lucy – such wonderful language (as ever) full of oppositions, full of brilliance. I love the turn – the first stanza – the cold withdrawal into the winter of the bears – and don’t come looking; the second stanza – such suffering memorialised in a play – (Hamlet-like I thought) – music, the communion and death. And then the coda – this could be terrible, this could be sublime – answers (and doesn’t answer) the problem of the poem. Phantastic.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Not sure but the poem seems to find turning redeemed by lysis, the benediction after the play’s last words that hangs somewhere, cathartic of the sum of losses. – “neither satiated or hungered / silhouetted in bliss.”

    Liked by 1 person

  5. I love the hide-and-seek of shadow-play in the opening stanza, Lucy, especially ‘I vanish into the winter of the bears’, which expands on the title and turns into the darker realms of your poem, and the final lines, which are my favourites:
    ‘in a dancing syllable from the shore,
    neither satiated or hungered
    silhouetted in bliss.’

    Liked by 1 person

  6. I love the turn from suffering to bliss here, Lucy! Poetry really delves into the heart of both, doesn’t it? Your poetry tends towards the darker side but it was great to find joy on the other side of darkness here! ❤️

    Liked by 1 person

  7. Such beautiful language and dramatic turn!
    I love “a shadow is a shadow
    then so am I until I vanish
    into the winter of the bears,”
    I saw this is a play, the tragic hero reciting the first two stanzas, and then some sort of spirit/witch saying the lines in the italics like a prophecy.

    Liked by 1 person

  8. The twist from living shadow to heavenly being works very well.
    You will have to excuse my sense of humor, but this line… brought to mind the old song, Another One Bites the Dust!
    the mother ossification of itself
    stealing yet another life
    from her eyes—

    Liked by 1 person

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