Wednesday, May 24, 2006

Dancing Princess 7

He called me Jess because that is the name of the hood which restrains the falcon.

I was his falcon. I hung on his arm and fed at his hand.

He said my nose was sharp and cruel
and that my eyes had madness in them.
He said I would tear him to pieces
if he dealt softly with me.

At night, if he was away, he had me chained to our bed.
It was a long chain, long enough for me to use the chamber pot
or to stand at the window and wait for the late owls.
I love to hear the owls.
I love to hear see the sudden glide of wings spread out for prey,
and then the dip and the noise like a lover in pain.

He used the chain when we went riding together.
I had a horse as strong as his,
and he’d whip the horse from behind
and send it charging through the trees,
and he’d follow, half a head behind,
pulling on the chain and asking me how I liked my ride.

I was none of these things, but I became them.

At night, in June I think,
I flew off his wrist and tore his liver from his body,
and bit my chain in pieces
and left him on the bed with his eyes open.

He looked
surprised, I don’t know why.
As your lover describes you, so you are.

--

Well there's nothing like a lovely dark and violent poem to start the day ;) If anyone knows where this poem comes from or who wrote it (google isn't telling me..) I'm sure the future English teachers from UNE will appreciate knowing...

1 comment:

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