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Array ( [sid] => 127265 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => The Old Country [time] => 2006-10-22 22:01:29 [hometext] => [bodytext] => Dangerous in an apron
a Grandmother stalks a fowl
her skin has a boxers sheen.
Dust rising, feathers flying
cackles echo the sleight of hen
hides behind the cock
but she grabs her prey with
a pincer twist.
Boiled plucked feathers
thumb flicked quills
the kitchen waits
we enter as she gathers her uses.

I lift a bony drum
talon is aligned to eyes
till startled dropped as she smacks
the enamel flat, shine textured
palm print fades cascading edges.
She sharpens her knife
as a whistling mood crowns grey dark forest
above stern ridges, scowl furrows her brow.
Metal slicing metal racing to skin
raised my neck hairs and signals:
goose flesh migrate to crown; as
she cuts clean to the birds wish.
A twist, a shake and out spilled
a rosette of eggs. Half formed ghosts
round varying yolks.
My knees knock in trembles.

She grabs my hand and whoops
and twirls me in dance to an
old song that she sings and syncopates.
I stop her and ask
'Where are the shells?'
She says 'Gott has them in His heart!'

The jewels of tradition are golden poached
offered in a sauce and then devoured. [comments] => 6 [counter] => 150 [topic] => 73 [informant] => yangdantien [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 15 [ratings] => 3 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => abstract )
The Old Country

Contributed by yangdantien on Sunday, 22nd October 2006 @ 10:01:29 PM in AEST
Topic: abstract



Dangerous in an apron
a Grandmother stalks a fowl
her skin has a boxers sheen.
Dust rising, feathers flying
cackles echo the sleight of hen
hides behind the cock
but she grabs her prey with
a pincer twist.
Boiled plucked feathers
thumb flicked quills
the kitchen waits
we enter as she gathers her uses.

I lift a bony drum
talon is aligned to eyes
till startled dropped as she smacks
the enamel flat, shine textured
palm print fades cascading edges.
She sharpens her knife
as a whistling mood crowns grey dark forest
above stern ridges, scowl furrows her brow.
Metal slicing metal racing to skin
raised my neck hairs and signals:
goose flesh migrate to crown; as
she cuts clean to the birds wish.
A twist, a shake and out spilled
a rosette of eggs. Half formed ghosts
round varying yolks.
My knees knock in trembles.

She grabs my hand and whoops
and twirls me in dance to an
old song that she sings and syncopates.
I stop her and ask
'Where are the shells?'
She says 'Gott has them in His heart!'

The jewels of tradition are golden poached
offered in a sauce and then devoured.




Copyright © yangdantien ... [ 2006-10-22 22:01:29]
(Date/Time posted on site)





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Re: The Old Country (User Rating: 1 )
by The_Unknown on Sunday, 22nd October 2006 @ 10:24:04 PM AEST
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umm, this kind of a long poem. very discriptive.
keep on writing!


Re: The Old Country (User Rating: 1 )
by deadheadpoet on Sunday, 22nd October 2006 @ 11:35:45 PM AEST
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Well written piece of poetry. I could feel the sharpness of the knife.
Peace, Laura


Re: The Old Country (User Rating: 1 )
by Former_Member on Sunday, 22nd October 2006 @ 11:44:50 PM AEST
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Ouch! I can feel thi sting of the knife!
Very good. And thanks for the comment
you left me. Very long. lol Good write, and
keep it up.

-Jessie


Re: The Old Country (User Rating: 1 )
by Former_Member on Monday, 23rd October 2006 @ 08:43:41 AM AEST
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Wonderful imagery here!
Not a topic that I might choose..LOL, but somehow you not only made it work while holding my attention, but did it well!


Re: The Old Country (User Rating: 1 )
by Eternal_Dreamer on Wednesday, 1st November 2006 @ 11:48:12 PM AEST
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Gheez AJ~ ouch one slip of the knife and, lol.
Your poetry is awesome and different. Always varied and well worth the read. Descriptive in detail and the imagery you cast is fabulous. Not alot writers can keep their readers enthralled from beginning to end. You do it with ease my dear friend.
Tips her hat to AJ~ Well done.
warm hugs,
Sue M


Re: The Old Country (User Rating: 1 )
by needledancing on Thursday, 8th March 2007 @ 11:28:51 PM AEST
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This is a wonderful piece. I esp: like Where are the shells? " Gott has them is His heart!"
Takes me back in time to witnessing the cleaning of my first fish...I wouldn't eat meat for two weeks after seeing that. Thanks




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