Well, yesterday was very nice: the Fellow and I had brunch with my brother, then went up to the Renaissance festival at the Cloisters, and finally had a Chinese barbecue for dinner. (I got a mooncake with a candle stuck in it: the advantages of the Mid-Autumn festival being on my birthday this year!) Yet another year of the twenties feels pretty much the same as the last one; I suspect that’s how it will continue to go.

This is for Donna‘s prompt, although I did not follow the letter of it this time: the phrase “words support like bone” turned into some mythology-inspired language-metaphor nonsense thing. But, here it is. I think it’s nice, even if it’s a flight of whimsy without much point.


Come down to the beach and find the flints of words
to build up bones for me. Take the ground serifs and
punctuation into your hands and make a sandcastle
around a shadow of me. Pour out mouthfuls of marrow,

which is practiced and repeated, which is conjugated,
tensed and released in me. Speak in an undeniable
language, mystifying and absolute, a parapet of beach
born sound, all of it for me. Invent a shell-mosaic name

that sings of me. Balance all my weight on two long
femurs of consonant and vowel, knead semantics into
ribs to lace the lungs in me. Open the sideways crab
into articulation for me. Play the marimba of my wings

with the wind hollowing through it, fill my gills with tall
tales, unravel the alphabet so it can become the rings
around the sea-blue irises of me. Write your dreams,
very small, in me. Then we’ll discuss what comes next.

12 thoughts on “Golem

  1. Yousei Hime says:

    So glad your weekend was good. Belated happy wishes to you.

  2. Hmmm. Even knowing what little I know about you, this doesn’t seem to be some “nonsense thing, or a flight of whimsy without much point” at all….and I quite liked it.

    Happy birthday to you, glad you had a nice weekend.

  3. Christopher says:

    I have to go with that last comment. This is probably not whimsy. Perhaps it is just that it’s you in some other life, and your lover too. This is often the truth in my stuff…like I just wrote a poem as if my lover had breast cancer and I neither have a lover nor did I ever have one with breast cancer. That doesn’t stop me.

  4. bajanpoet says:

    WOW….. this isn’t whimsy at all … this is some heavy wordplay, man. I am in awe….

  5. Love how you worked the prompt. Also how you included all your birthday wishes in this. Hope The Fellow reads it and answers your “prompt”! I’m back after more BSOD (Bull Shit Of Destruction) problems, but now dear “Sadie” is humming away fine. Happy birthday, and sorry I didn’t come through with a BD poem for you this year, but, hey, I don’t even send my sisters CARDS, so you should know, last year was it, my dear friend! (But then, you aren’t in the Tea Party, so…!) Hugs and blessings, Amy

  6. Happy Birthday! I like this from the very beginning. It has amazing wordplay of how one constructs, mulls over, and finally releases a written piece. Great work!

  7. We are the words, and the words are us! Wonderful!

  8. Nice… a storyteller created in the sands…very interesting.

  9. Sara v says:

    Happy Birthday!! You gave yourself quite a gift with this poem, so many phrases that made me smile at your ingenuity and the pure beauty of them. Absolutely loved this!

  10. rmp says:

    I can see a touch of whimsy here…building a creature (you) out of words. I like the way you entwined the beach theme with the word theme.

  11. “knead semantics into
    ribs to lace the lungs in me” def my favorite lines!

  12. kimnelson says:

    The duality of meanings and creation of being through verse are clever and intriguing. Glad I popped over to read.

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