October blazen on his steed
came to town made off with the maidens
in the night. He sat a solid victor on the llano
drinking mead and smoking disdainful
singing bawdy songs to the moon;
he set the dogs to barking the
cattle to shifting restlessly.
We stole to his camp
pilfered his drink skins
danced wild round his fire
as he slept exhausted midst his spoils.
We threw handfuls of rubbed chile in the air
and coughed as it rained on our uplifted faces
convinced we had found life's sweet elixir
and our sprightly feet kicked up
the golden crinkling leaves lying
abandoned on the ground
and through the dust our torsos twisted
and our legs writhed
and from our pagan throats came cries
that sent our spines dancing
and then spiralled to the skinny skeletal treetops.
His snores fueled our unearthly laughs
and we stole his rough woven horse blankets
and I tickled his black moustache
with the soft down of doves
I found blanketing the cold ground.
As the night wore on we stamped and chanted
trance-like in the heathen fire light
the pops of the sap pockets speaking to us
in ancient evil tongues
our eyes reflecting the burning pit before us.
But the moon began descending
growing weary of our Bacchic celebration
no longer willing to shelter and hide us
from the sun's judgment and the sleeping behemoth whose camp we flooded
and so the dawn crept in and tapped our shoulders
smiling mirthfully at our panicked faces
pale and green in the waxing light.
We fled to the Cottonwoods on the river
diving deep to submerged caves sheltered in tree roots and shallow rocky coves
but October's chilling cry did not escape
our watery ears
and our limbs ached to cavort and coerce again
twelve months from now
when the moon showed again her harvest face.
Author notes
I love October. I'm not sure I did him justice.
Ubriaca is Italian, in case you feel the need to define it.
Comments
1 - 5 of 5
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very nice, Nienna
I think I would read this a few times before forming any judgement, so I offer instead my first impression. You have grown beyond measure since last I read your work. Your command of language is immense. It is a thrill to read your work. More than that, I cannot yet say, except for this: Good to see you still at it.
language: 5, rhythm: 2, subject: 5, tone: 4, form: 3.
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Nienna I really like the mood and momentum you establish here. Great rhythms and word choices. Goes beyond childish prank into druid worship or ancient ritual. The feeling of bodies being possessed is well depicted.
"...from our pagan throats came cries
that sent our spines dancing."
Thoroughly original and evocative.
These bodies generate heat in the chill of October.
One spot you might want to look at is the second line and the beginning of the third. "in the night" broke the rhythm for me partly because of the line break, and that's not what you want when you're trying to establish a rhythm. You could do without it and have no real loss of meaning or you could insert it earlier in the line like: "made off in the night with the maidens." I thought the rest of the poem read very smoothly, but staggered slightly here.
but a fine piece in the tradition of Francois Villon or as Iphios suggested Mark Twain. Cheers - MJ
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Nienna,
I love it. I love the style, the old-fashioned-ness, but still your voice is in this poem. This is truly amazing. I love October, too. This poem reminds me of the harvest moon, of Neil Gaiman stories, or maybe even the book the Mist's of Avalon. Nienna, you truly have grown. You were a truly amazing writer before, but now your even better, somehow. You've grown more mature, too, but your still my Nienna.
This poem just made me happy. I suppose it could be considered dark, but the revelry, however dark, thrilled me and made me happy. You really portrayed the drunken high well. And I love the title.
This was truly amazing.
-Colin
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I love october too, but for another reason. Its my month. Anyway, i enjoyed this alot. The mischief sort of reminded me of Tom Sawyer. I'm not sure why. I suppose its the images and how you string the scene that gave it that Twain feel. I like the unfolding of the story line and the pagan like ritual in the evening moon. The drunkeness, mischief, the crazy celebration captures the October i like.
As always, your poetry unfolds like a tale that drags you in. Its nice reading a new poem from you nienna. Its been a while. Glad to see some of the "old" faces.
-iphios -
Nice piece ! The title "Ubriaca" it's just great.It means drunk in English .Your poem is very descriptive ,dark and beautiful.I liked every single line.It felt so real as if i was part of it.October is a great month.Keep it up !
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