Photo credit: kesh from morguefile.com
I guess I'm dreaming in stereo because I'm both awake and asleep. Lead arms over mine, draped just like a coat on the upstairs guest room bed at my aunt's fabulous banquet parties. Dead old oak giving off the mustiness that only attics can infuse in high doses.
The government is guilty of making me hate this. The people and the peace of sky disappearing overhead as I close my eyes and listen to the sound of wind over the fenders. This grazing eagle feather: tip and spine dusted over flat surrealism. This boiling ink overflowing the pot that came before the kettle. This temptation to make it all better by burying myself in concrete.
I like fish. They slip silver and ogle the bottom of the tank with permanent bewilderment. Laid up on the shore for the desperately hungry to string on a line and transport to yearning mouths.
I take the obvious and drag it behind the mirror of recollection until the glass shears away, leaving a supine trail of sanguine and sublime. A delicate balance of trauma and bliss, only to ignore any sort of flagged decision that would sway the boat to port or starboard. This anchor drops here, disturbing the silt to cloud the center of the universe.
There is no hole.
No hole indeed... This is very beautiful prose, Carrie. Uber-poetic and thoroughly interesting. Bravo! :)
There's a surreal flow to this, moving fromthe images of sky and flight down to the dark deeps. I'd call it ethereal, but that's too light and airy a word. Murky? No, it's too jagged and sharp.
Perhaps "stygian" is what it calls to ming - dark, threatening and inescapable.
Strong stuff here.
I have been at parties and seen your exact scenario of coats draped across the bed.
And can smell the musty attic odor, too.
Lines of dreamy sway, language that curls around as smoke from a cigarette.
I love what you did with those words, Carrie, but you're working at a level so far over my head it's scary.
Man I really love that penultimate paragraph. Up until then I'd felt slightly disoriented, but I think this was deliberate? You give very little away in what links the initial thoughts, where they come from, leaping from the mustiness from an old memory, to government conspiracy, a spiritual metaphor then feelings of self-abnegation. That was all delicious stuff in itself, but then the slightly more protracted metaphor of the cracked silver mirror and the anchorage of a boat - it's just wonderful writing and imagery. I love it.
It's a bit early, cos I've only read 2 stories, but I reckon this is going to be my favourite this week.
Deep and beautiful. More poetic than fiction to me at least.
Between you and Maynard, this is one very eye opening week! :)
They slip silver and ogle the bottom of the tank with permanent bewilderment.
Beautiful imagery. Peace, Linda
You guys blow my mind with such praise. Every so often I write abstract. I think anyone can find meaning in this if they think about it. Just like a horoscope. ;)
Your approval means the damn world to me.
Dreamy, beautiful, wistful. heh... the coats on the bed... the wind over the fenders... gorgeous.
"flat surrealism" is going to keep me pondering for a while
Carrie, let's hear it for abstract!!!
When I read "peace of sky is disappearing" my brain says typo, and then I reply, no it *is* the peace of sky which is being lost. Lovely sensory experience which is open and welcoming.
Correct Lou. "Peace of sky" is intentional, a double meaning if you will. I think in modern terms we can all identify with the loss of peace of sky.
Beautiful, Carrie. I'll go with Tony's "stygian". It had that quality for me.
I love it when you write abstract. The words came through to my like lyrics - singing in my head, and transporting me to places I didn't quite understand, but it didn't matter, it was so beautiful and tragic in one.
More abstract please!
Sounds nice, but I'm lost on the meaning.
I paused too at "peace of sky" and came to the same conclusion.
Poetic and well written!
Great first line and great last line. Perfect framing. You have a beautiful turn of phrase here.
Not quite sure what to make of this, but it doesn't matter. The way the words weave together makes this a wonderful piece of writing.
This was amazing, such wonderful wordcraft!
Superb. Just beautiful Carrie.
Wow...beautifully written Carrie! Loved it!
There is something languid and dreamlike about how the images drift from one to another in this piece which I really like.
A stunning piece Carrie.
Mystifying. I don't read a lot of poetry anymore but I still appreciate it. There was a time when I understood what Bob Dylan and Leonard Cohen were saying but their words allude me now. Still, I keep listening. And I went back and read this again, so that's a good sign.
Loved the flow and feel of this one. Poetic prose and wonderful imagery.
Very beautifully written, with more than a hint of Buñuel!
Wow! seems to be all I can say to you anymore. This is so deep, so poetic, so surreal, so, so, so...
See, you are leaving me speechless, again. Where is this stuff coming from? Just keep it coming and I will continue to say, "Wow!"
Beautifully poetic and mysterious, I read this through twice, captivated by the use of language and thought provoking narrative arc.
I agree with Jim, carrie... This particular piece of flash is more poetic than fiction... But that said, I love it as well as your overall voice.
Poetry or fiction? This is where they breed to make beautiful children. I walk a line. ;)
Not sure I quite understood, but loved the poetry and imagery of this. Surreal...
It's a suicide that didn't happen. Thanks everyone for coming to read and post commentary.
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