reproduction
most regularly comes without
instruction
derived from a paint between
the lines birthday kit
held for rain swept days
conceived in lack of
light without approved celebration
our brush, our body
draws, outlines and balances,
tools assemble their art-form
in a silence;
reverberating mouths
become collectively ignored, leaving our single mind
to covet its own self-reflection
to harbor
the a full moons word against
a background fallen (blue-black) who am
I?
who is this? who - what birthright
do I have? to pull and release such an unknown
oh most holy mother hear me out
on this
hear me out, lead me, show me, guide me
least I fail, least I fail, least I fail....
from the archives of life
we see our blueprint reborn, it is from life's warm wet colors
we see, we hear cry primal purpose, a recreation of
summer to spring, of bone
to beauty and we can not phantom its reason or its sacrament
but here we paint and we brush
till we stand vulnerably exposed to this our self over and over again
in each breath, in every breath we
call daughter
bkmackenzie
copyrighted 2014
for my daughter who has taught me more than I could ever dream of teaching her....
posted for Open Link Night - at d'Verse Pub
The generations written as art.. what a nice idea.. and you savour it through the poem to the very end... love that.. the imagery becomes great
ReplyDeletereally like that last stanza bk...its got a nice energy to it...oy, do we ever really know what we are getting ourselves into giving birth...ha...but mine too have taught me so much....
ReplyDeleteGreat concept. I like it.
ReplyDeleteso very different from your usual work... interesting
ReplyDeleteA wonderful marriage of the creative and procreative worlds, asking us to see through the perceived difference between canvas and womb.Nice work.
ReplyDeleteI love the concept of the mother daughter relationship written as art...that last stanza is really strong.
ReplyDeleteSurreal. A birth. A masterpiece.
ReplyDeleteOur children teach us so much, beautifully penned.
ReplyDeleteVery nice. I like the imagery. The last stanza resonates. :-)
ReplyDeleteA clever concept wonderfully executed.
ReplyDeleteoh i bet your daughter loves the poem... my kids love when i write about them...and yes...they teach us so much... beautiful images allthrough
ReplyDeletelife's warm wet colors...
ReplyDelete...like this visual...interesting read.
I like the expressions: of color with life's warm wet colors, Black/blue you can just see the colors splash on the pic in your mind's eye as I read your write. I find all relationships need delicate care.
ReplyDeleteWhat great metaphors explored here. I agree so much of what we're meant to teach, give, comes without instruction books; and it's a miracle when mothering produces something greater than ourselves. This is formal yet intimate and precise as is all your work - spiritual, philosophical as well. I always come away from reading your poems with a new understanding of you, of life, and a new way of looking at the world. As always a pleasure to read.
ReplyDeleteThank you so much Gay...bkm
Deletegorgeous
ReplyDeleteand profound
Thank you Tammie and thanks for stopping in. Hope to write more than last year had health issues but pretty well over them love yor paintings...bkm
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