Sunday, January 10, 2010

Bell Jar


The watcher holds his orbit tight
Spins up there in meat satellite
Cables snap to drag the clouds
Curtains drench the numbing crowds

He takes my blood my budding horns
Says there’s is no beauty in a rose without thorns
And the ghosts that flee his haunted look
Pass through walls of unread books

Cradling Cats he calls the night
Presumes himself neither wrong nor right
While fashioning hooks to end these lines
With knives and spoons and bent fork tines

14 comments:

the walking man said...

Nigh on a macabre nursery rhyme with a surreal feel. Pass through wall of unread books...wish I had written that line.

The imagery comes fast and hard each line giving a new thought to ponder and the last quatrain gives much insight into the narrators mind.

I found an odd appeal the Bell Jar.

Jimmy Bastard said...

I went back through each line to fully appreciate the craftmanship used to put this latest pure dead brilliant offering together.

Surreal indeed, superbly so.

Tom said...

read and reread. To think there could be someone like this orbiting...sometime...soon..or now?

Cinnamon said...

So tightly crafted- absorbing- and dark. The watcher seems psychopathic, yet evokes from the reader the empathy which he seems to lack.

Justin Russell said...

"While fashioning hooks to end these lines
With knives and spoons and bent fork tines"

It's a pleasure to come here and read things such as this. Keep 'em coming. :-)

subby said...

Agreeing with walking man on that line, but the whole grabbed me as well...almost, for I am the ghost that fled...

Yodood said...

Hello … Kurt? Meat satellite or no, I'd recognize that voice anywhere. ;p

Jon said...

sure silvia would have liked this take... and not sure, but is there a subtle shot at ted hughes in here too...

she'd probably appreciate that as well!

Pisces Iscariot said...

Walking Man: nice pun in the final line :D not sure what of the narrator's mind has been revealed :H

Jimmy: "pure dead brilliant" aah to be back in Glasgow :)

Tom: there is: the meat satellite is your head

Cinnamon: My intention was that 'The watcher' is the other that exists within each of us and is exposed when we write down our thoughts.

Justin: Glad to have served you with suitable cutlery ;)

Subby: come back and tidy up that bookcase!

Yodood: Kurt's not here man ;]

Jon: Believe it or not, I'm not much of a poetry buff so cannot comment on any Ted Hughes influence (though you may well be correct) - as for Ms Plath, I must ashamedly admit to never having read any of her work :[

subby said...

But I just finished building it! No, really...but it still cannot contain all the knowledge...

Harnett-Hargrove said...

Such a breeze of a writing. I saw it come in and land on the table. Weird, but true. -J

Pisces Iscariot said...

Subby: need to build a bigger one :)

Jayne: I'll have whatever you've had then :D (keep that window open)

Harlequin said...

wonderful and ghoulish
and I liked the ( somewhat) unlikely rhyming.... nice!
who watches the watchers....

Pisces Iscariot said...

Harlequin: I liked the way you used 'liked' and 'unlikely' in the same sentence :D