chiseled, cast - slow
to conform
toward parenting or parish-ship
a life sainted set in grey
relief - stead i
took to a muses handling
of edge to sharp to stand alone , all
Rilke and rotund - roses spread on a barren
ground - this failing heir of Herculine
fond not of any sculptor's tool
curtailing nights to walk
in dust - foreshortening faith
to purge the cleansing of any word - from dust i came
so to it - i sit now in full view, not full of grace
or hypocritical refrain
for a sinful souls renewal
dreamt of it, i dream of it - maquette complete
to hand and with
ancient muse to guide both
word and character to stone, i speak
into the marble - a vision of God -
that i intend in this life's ending
to be called - my very own.
bkmackenzie
copyrighted 2011
Herculine Bardin ("the failed heir" reference) - male nor female she/he was classified as both (1838-1868) eventually ending life in suicide.
now you had me with Rilke...he's def. one of my fav of the old poets..love the sculpture and for me it feels like you're molding and folding your words around it
ReplyDeletenice...i like the rilke ref as well...and the rhyme rotund and barren is tight...smiles on the formation into that image of God as well...nice bk
ReplyDeleteThough you mention Rilke, this piece actually put me in mind of a Gibran piece that Luke introduced me to 'On Children'. Not only is the mood of the piece similar but I also think there are parallels in the message/premise of both pieces.
ReplyDeleteHerculine Bardin, such a sad story and a very fitting personification of forced identity, being moulded by the hands/ideals of others.
Though beautifully written I think some readers might find it difficult to grasp the poem without the background knowledge. Nevertheless a very thoughtful, exquisitely executed piece.
The sculpture itself seems woven through your words and the resulting tapestry is rich in depth of meaning, color of emotion and intent.
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ReplyDeletethank you all and Carys thank you for your input...true on the Herculine...but in generalized terms I feel we all have bits of Herculine within...moulded and labeled by home and society...true character is the blending of both masculine and feminine into that person that we are made to become...thanks for your input...bkm
ReplyDeleteBecause I recognized the scupture as being by Rodin (his "emerging" pieces are among my favorites), you had me from the beginning. Herculine Bardin's story is so tragic, and La Danaide is a perfect representation. One can easily imagine the exhaustion and frustration of trying to figure out who she was and to fit in leading to suicide in the end. You poem captures that well.
ReplyDeleteThank you Patti..I always respect your input..bkm
ReplyDeleteI love the voice you used here. I could feel doom resonating in the lines.
ReplyDeletebkm~
ReplyDeleteYou've highlighted what I consider an eternal theme... we are all trying to decide who, what we are. We are all products of environment and predispositions. Those whose truth defies their community norms struggle greatly to emerge. Sometimes, too many times, they fail and pay the ultimate personal price.
bkm,
ReplyDeleteIt's fascinating! A question of mood. Yearnings to emulate. You brought it out very well. We all want to be there!
Claudia mentioned that your words feel as if they are folding and molding around the sculpture. That's what struck me, too.
ReplyDeleteYou are a clever artsy one. Always enjoy a visit here. I took a liken to roses spread on a barren ground. A great image/contrast of dying beauty and its future place of decay and rest. I enjoyed it!
ReplyDeleteVery nicely sculpted piece,, loved the last lines
ReplyDeleteand Rilke is one my fav poets as well :)
I loved this piece! A treasure in itself!
ReplyDeleteCoo! I had to re-read this till it sank in and I could see how you had moulded the words to emerge and shape as an epitaph to Herculine (what a wonderful name.)
ReplyDeleteI haven't read Rilke so can't relate to that reference but it didn't really matter to me.
I could hear this as a monologue, the rhythm flows and ebbs.
Bravo
avril
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteThis stanza speaks so strongly across the poem to your use of "parish-ship" in the first - "curtailing nights to walk
ReplyDeletein dust - foreshortening faith
to purge the cleansing of any word - from dust i came
so to it - i sit now in full view, not full of grace
or hypocritical refrain
for a sinful souls renewalk"
There is a personal death with its own agony in forsaking that faith of our parents. Then one strikes out in the dead of night to face our God with truth found in our own hearts, taught by our own muse and we trust that truth more than all the words hurled at us in church.
Brave write, my friend! Kudos
Wonderful...as always! And it seems I've learned of something new, so a grand new adventure of reading and research lies ahead for me...never, ever a disappointment...I so enjoy my visits!
ReplyDeleteThis poem is rich with imagery. For me the relationship from image to image could be a little clearer-- the issue for me is the syntax, the order of your words. I feel it best to mix concretion in with abstraction/use of abstract words and you've done that beautifully here. I've been writing to the Rilke postings myself. xxxj
ReplyDeleteExquisite from the first line to the last, Barb.
ReplyDeletePamela
I like the imagery right away with the beginning stanza which grasps your attention immediately posted with the sculpture.
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