NaPoWriMo, NaPoWriMo2018, Personal Experiences

NaPoWriMo Day 8: A Harbor Speaks/Wisdom Priests


The prompt for day 8  (again logged 2 days late) was to write a strange poem a la Percy Bysse Shelley.. This prompt was really hard and it took me a long time to get to where it is now, which is in it’s current form, is still rough (I basically have given up on it for now) and is not very good. It forced me to write completely outside my own likes and sensibilities and gave me the opportunity to try and rework a poem that I wrote eight years ago. What you’ll read below is an overly baroque, wanton weird story about gnostic priests who set about eating everything to enhance their own existence and to make themselves immortal.  All substances were meant for good, but taken into the mouths, hearts, bellies of these “wisdom priests” leave darkness, sully beauty and lead to their death.

I was inspired by one of my oddest/favorite children’s stories, “The Rainbow Goblins”, parts of the “deathly hallow’s” narrative of Harry Potter, and a Decembrist’s song  “The Rake” in which the main antagonist kills one of his children by getting her to eat foxglove.  Enjoy….. and please forgive.

A Harbor Speaks

Looming in the womb 

of my volcanic harbor  

are the ghosts of those 

who ate foxglove

Wisdom-priests 

Dark and deep 

were their motives to possess 

the infinite everything

But now they roam

 in watery decay,  pleading light-songs of release into the sky

Wisdom priests

They ate rubies and gold

and stars and petal’ed-flower

And plead to the gods—they themselves their gods—to possess the infinite everything

The gold and the ruby

meant to be melted 

by heart’s pure alchemy

were ground and gobbled by wretched teeth

Disappeared and swallowed greedily

All by the wisdom priests

The light of the star’s gleaming leading 

meant to float seeker into hope

was sucked wide and deep into the chasm mouths

Leaving a counterfeit black 

blank night

for poor seeking eyes

all done by the wisdom priests

Thimble’d foxglove

white petal, golden pollen grains and stamen

meant to be sung into elixir by the stirring 

of humble friar’s hand

Now foul chyme, churned and chewed

brews death in the bellies

 of them the wisdom priests 

and their fools

Looming in the womb 

of my volcanic harbor  

are the ghosts of those 

who ate foxglove

Wisdom-priests 

Dark and deep 

were their motives to possess 

the infinite everything

But now they roam

 in watery decay,  pleading light-songs of release into the sky

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One thought on “NaPoWriMo Day 8: A Harbor Speaks/Wisdom Priests

  1. Pingback: NaPoWriMo Day 8: Magic – Toby's Big Oul Blog

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