to the trumpeting place
to the trumpeting place
by jessica bixel
I lie on a north-east south-west spinning axis, divided by ribs, the sort Adam would have appreciated. I am an allegorical woman, a hypothetical case of he loved me, he loved me not, overgrown with jewelweed like an old border wall.
And the thing is, I hate gardens. I like rocks. And not ones graded by degree. I like octagonal crusaders because it is hard to say. I like saying things only I can understand. I like God. Sometimes. I like symmetry.
I like lying. A little. I like the idea of cutting off all of my hair when my father dies. I like forgetting that people die, like old broken weeds. The way too much rain and wind can break the stalks of people who were beautiful yesterday.
This poem is written from the inner tuning fork of poet’s self–how refreshing to look from the in to the out.
‘to the trumpeting place’–excellent title! It gives me a clue before reading the main body of poem and it’s something to reflect upon once i have read it. Very powerful image–to the trumpeting place. The poet really takes ownership of herself in expressing personal feelings artfully. I’m attracted to the idea of a place within ourselves where we can just blast forth our feelings.
i loved the last stanza particularly: “I like lying. A little. I like the idea of cutting off all of my hair when my father dies. I like forgetting that people die, like old broken weeds. The way too much rain and wind can break the stalks of people who were beautiful yesterday.” ahh, it rings so true–gripping analogies!
It’s cool to see someone using the concept of ‘deeper meanings’. I very much enjoyed the read! thx!