Post-Eden (II)
Post-Eden
Why are some skins so scarred by sin, original?
Birthright bungled as an abandoned fowl’s
that bustles, bristling, behind anything
with wings or whitewash; wavering between
a cross of chicken scratch, chested waddle,
and that batter of bleach and burn that just might
unsully the soul, sanitize, or at least, cover
the cicatriced core of the cast out. Instead
its feathers fletch in-flinted barbs because
from naught to now, they are not right–
not feathers, not fleece, not feelings– because
from when to whenever, they are wrong; because
some species, some space, of paradise,
was once their own, and they its one and only; because
the rind of them remembers; really, it does.
*******************************
Hmmm… Here’s a draft poem of sorts for dVerse Poets Pub’s Form For All, hosted by Tony Maude, about alliterative accents – something like that. Tony’s written a very interesting article about Anglo-Saxon poetry. Check it out. I do not think I’ve followed the format of four accents per line (three alliiterative), but I have tr-tr-tr-tried. (I have also edited since first posting.)
I call it Post-Eden (II) because I have another Post-Eden poem that can be found here.
Explore posts in the same categories: poetry, UncategorizedTags: alliterative accents poem, manicddaily, mixed-up bird poem, Original Sin poem, Paradise lost non-Milton poem, Post-Eden (II), where oh where did it go wrong poem
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ManicDDaily 
July 11, 2013 at 11:15 pm
they are not right–
not feathers, not fleece, not feelings….esp. from here on really gripped me… that feeling of not being right, not belonging, not deserving to be.. it can kill you…and i really know what i’m talking about… a deep write k.
July 12, 2013 at 1:30 am
It would be foolish to say I get this poem from only one reading, but it’s so jammed with images and languages that my late-night brain is both intoxicated(and as usually follows) a bit wobbley-legged walking through it thinking it knows something. I feel the darkness that comes with being cast out, the bitterness and acting out it brings expressed well in that rather ruthlessly narrow aggression of fowl, particularly towards each other, and a sort of shambling collage of personal parallels that make me want to memorize this for repeating to myself when I need its insight. The language in this seems both classically formal–maybe that’s the stressed alliteration thing– and totally yours, and the title evokes that state we all are in–thrown into a world fallen from paradise for reasons our bird brains can’t conceive. Fine writing, k.–especially for a ‘draft poem of sorts….’ ;_)
July 12, 2013 at 5:27 am
Thanks– I call almost anything a draft that is hot off the press especially when I am changing it even as I post. Makes me think that it may still, in the light of another day, be revised. The fowl I was getting at was the imprinted baby that follows the wrong parent but I took out the imprinting lines–I’m not sure they conveyed that idea anyway and I wanted to shorten and get to meat of it. One never knows with cuts but generally I think I go on too long so cuts are probably good, thanks.
July 12, 2013 at 7:57 am
Hi – I now changed “bastard” fowl to abandoned fowl, as maybe that hints more towards confused lost duck or chick – as I meant a little more sympathy, and I guess all fowl are bastards – though I suppose there’s usually only one rooster around. Ha. k.
July 12, 2013 at 8:24 am
Ha! Well, we’ve kept chickens and ducks, and I can’t say I have a lot of empathy for them–they are of course only genetically programed little things, but can be terribly cruel. I like the idea of imprinting, but I agree it could be an added confusion in a complex piece like this, also that cuts are hard, but usually good–and you are much braver than I with your drafts–mine sit in my folder for months getting two word or two line tweaks before I finally slap them up, after ten more rewrites. ;_) Writing spontaneously at this level is a true gift, K., however the poem evolves from here.
And re: the two blankets–I hate you. Have a nice day. 😛
July 12, 2013 at 8:35 am
Ha. Our garden is very behind though– the bad side of the cool– very late and short season sometimes.
July 12, 2013 at 8:26 am
PS Abandoned works really well, and keeps the alliteration, plus I think the imprinting does come through a bit.
July 12, 2013 at 4:17 am
I love the poem it’s a great and important subject… there are some lines that are perfect to the prompt I think
not feathers, not fleece, not feelings– because
from when to whenever, they are wrong; because
It is a great form to experiment with.. and I would love to see the finished poem…
July 12, 2013 at 6:27 am
Well relieved to hear that it’s not a sin to admit a draft is a draft posted while writing still in my head. I love participating in prompts but almost always so rough I feel awkward knowing it needs work.
Anyhow, a very good draft and while I wasn’t always sure what was intended you give enough to appreciate the whole.
July 12, 2013 at 6:59 am
love the close…the rind of them remembers another world from before…maybe too the echo of something greater is what inspires us not to leave our world the way it is…really an interesting turn on the allit k
July 12, 2013 at 9:35 am
complex–lots to ponder here and the sound is great
July 12, 2013 at 2:09 pm
An epic subject for an epic poetry form, Karin. Most, if not all of the lines, obey the bang, bang, bang – crash! rule that is the basis of the accentual alliterative poetry style of the Old English, Old Norse and Icelandic poets.
July 18, 2013 at 11:24 am
Tony, thanks! This got put into my spam filter. So sorry. thanks for your thoughtful review. k.
July 12, 2013 at 2:31 pm
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July 12, 2013 at 9:50 pm
Metaphysically it is so often how we feel or judge ourself and others. Doctrinally it is not what I agree with for many reasons and, the alliteration is fabulous ! Beautifully weaved ! ALWAYS thinking, praying you’re well dear k. ~Faithfully D
July 13, 2013 at 7:01 am
Deb, I so appreciate your openness to these poems as i know you have different views. My views change from minute to minute, of course, and a poem reflects only one little slice of time. K.
July 13, 2013 at 2:01 am
You deftly weave so much in, and then that closing line packs a punch, K.
July 13, 2013 at 6:07 am
Karin, this is masterful! Just wow. Great use of form and imagery – I think you totally nailed it.