We are unwelcome in the back-water of daguerreotypes
where the foxes hold their own
            (as we must do)
peated under thick mud burrows
the raven-song of May and June,

but autumn holds with no alterations
the brushwoods bend with gold and beechwood
            β€“ the plated faces of tawny owls
under a moon I inhumed long ago
            in a cup under the stairs, mostly

unwelcome: same as loves’ soft laughter
were we spout ourselves wholly selfless in the spring,
where the white foals in
            their clumsy baying match the burr of blueish water,

and not unlike our hexed state of mind,
            a for-get-me-not moment in the corner
when thoughts astound our pin-prick heads
            and in baldness flows the light of questions.

Β© Eve Redwater 2012

Posted for dVersepoets “Open Link Night 32”


43 thoughts on “Unwelcome

  1. I feel that I have had a brush with the natural world..its rankness and cycles and feel small, a little lost. I love your choice of words and the shifting visions you create..but most of all, the ‘pin prick heads’… the speaker in the world.

    Much enjoyed the concrete and the ephemeral. Lovely.

  2. read this over a couple of times. A challenging (in a good way!) almost abstract poem. It created in me a feeling of reflection- like the person sitting under the stairs had been in a dark, wintery place, had tasted the fade of the summer (autumn)- and longed for a happier place- the summer- a place of love and innocence, not the craftiness of foxes or the supernatural quality of the owls. Enjoyed this very much. great usage of words! I’d nver heard of daguerreotypes before

    • Thank you for your lovely comment! I’d not heard of daguerreotypes before I stumbled across it the other day – I think it’s such a wonderful word, I just had to incorporate it somewhere!

  3. i like how you mingle nature with what is going on inside…the hexed state of mind and for-get-me-not moments in the corner… great flow to it as well..

  4. So lovely, Eve, this is one of those…” I wish I would’ve written this” poems, esp.:
    the plated faces of tawny owls
    under a moon I inhumed long ago
    in a cup under the stairs, mostly

    Just beautiful! xx

  5. Eve, this poem is magnificent. I’m glad you found my blog so that I could come and find yours. I love it all, but my favorite lines would have to be:

    “We are unwelcome in the back-water of daguerreotypes
    where the foxes hold their own
    (as we must do)
    peated under thick mud burrows”

    • Hello! I’m really glad I found your blog too! It’s lovely to meet you!

      Thank you for reading this and commenting. This one was more ‘free-thinking’ than my recent work, I thought perhaps it made it unattractive because of it’s juxtaposed nature. I know it’s not clear as day, but I really enjoyed writing it. πŸ™‚

      I hope to see you here again soon!
      Eve x

  6. This is serious poetry. I don’t say that often. If you’re looking for somewhere to get constructive feedback/crit on your work amongst other poets, I have a circle… the link’s on my blogroll

  7. There is so much to love about this poem. Others have commented on the unusual perspective on the natural world, on the musicality and cadence, I won’t repeat those. But let me say that I take joy in the details, in the practiced indents, in words like “inhumed” and “raven-song”, and in the unusual dashing of “for-get-me-not” that forces you to think about double and triple entendres, in the way you use words to suggest other words “burr” and “blur”. Read aloud for the moment, this poem is a joy; read with time taken to ponder, it is astounding.

    • Hello Semaphore, it’s lovely to see you on my blog! I’m a fan of your works myself, so to receive your praise makes me really happy. πŸ™‚ I’m grateful for your comment and thoughts, please stop by any time!

      • Go along to an open mic night and have a go. You need to test your poetry on a live audience and penetrate into something real – you’ll learn a lot more, in a visceral, physical way about your work, and about your direction as a writer. I need to do it more often myself. πŸ™‚

  8. Like this? This is beyond liking. The music, the cadence of the music, the images from the natural world, the simple skill underlying the creativity! Wow! You are a poet, a poet, a poet Eve Redwater. A poet!

  9. My dear nature-girl, you’ve done it again! Turned day and night and the seasons and the birds of the air and the beasts of the field all into your own magical queendom, and invited us in to gambol in their midst. Thanks!

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