I’ve chained him
in the cellar with strong
links three times your weight but
I can hear him rending
his limbs as he thrashes
against the bonds, yowling.
It is too easy to say
he is a rabid wolf that howls
at the invisible moon. Easy,
but precise. Like the blade
of a knife. Powerless
rage sustains him so long
before he comes out to feed.
Can you hear what calls
him up? It is your voice.
Can you feel the key
to the lock in your pocket?
Leave it there. He is
no empty metaphor, no device
for a poem. He is
as real as the lines
in your hands, as real
as my shot eyes searching
the night.
Lie in bed and listen
to him beg. Let me out.
Let me out. I will perform
your secret desires. I will
bend to your will.
He is bursting through my flesh.
He is erupting from my fingernails.
He will sleep when day
treads over hill
in exhaust. Then
you can help me pull him down
and hold him fast.
Leave him be.
You can see the foam
fall from the edge
of his lips and know
there are creatures
that cannot be tamed.
Just help me
hold him down.
He is not a pleasant person.
Help me
banish him to the black vortex
of memory.
Here is you do it:
Leave me.
4 comments:
This has some wonderful imagery and a very compelling voice, Sam. I thoroughly enjoyed reading it. There were just a couple of spots that tripped me up:
He will sleep when day
treads over hill
in exhaust.
The "over hill in exhaust" part seems wrong to me. I think you mean that the creature will sleep after nightfall when he's exhausted but you separated that last clause from the subject so the day is exhausted also but in the end it seems like a tacked on prepositional clause that doesn't belong with either. Maybe just "exhausted" would work better?
Then the last short stanza:
Here is you do it:
Leave me.
Maybe it's because I'm a little unwell but I have no idea what that means.
Finally, I think the piece would be much stronger if you were to end it after the sixth stanza:
Leave him be.
You can see the foam
fall from the edge
of his lips and know
there are creatures
that cannot be tamed.
As it happens, six is the number of man so that would seem an apt enough stanza to end on anyway. The rest seems didactic to me and also a bit flat.
Oh yeah, you might consider a footnote for the title though for those who aren't familiar with the term. :D I do like the title, I don't think the other side would be nearly so effective.
Anyway, really wonderful work. Thanks very much.
I apologize if that last was a bit incoherent and rambling. Just the state I'm in tonight. I will be happy to do another critique when I'm feeling better if you like.
Oddly enough, I suppose, I get the, "He will sleep when day
treads over hill
in exhaust."
This is just another way of discribing day going to night. Day is tired and gives in to night.
I will give this more time but I love the implications and feel this poem evokes.
I just came across this one Sam. The one thing that jumps out at me is the length. It seemed to go on quite a bit; perhaps you could pare it down a little. Otherwise, I don’t think I would change much as you have done a very good job here of conveying a sense of struggle. Good job.
-Steve
Post a Comment