Crescent Moon
Posted on 06 February 2010
As Elvis Costello baptizes
the radiant morning,
blaring with the South Road sun
(my SUV windows up against the Yukon wind,
the oil of an Arabian child’s blood whistling
this empire’s chromed wheel’s glory forward)
I see her dancing.
Dancing!
A pining child with her pockets
full of daddy’s jelly beans.
Dancing
a ragamuffin’s dreams of flour
for a thousand loaves of bread.
A pine tree.
Dancing!
Jiggling every pine tree
needle of her Christmas joy.
And if it’s only a mix of Caribbean hot currents
and Arctic winter blow
then why aren’t the other trees dancing,
stamping their roots to my English rocker
as our two countries throttle through
bombs and blood and casual facts?
Why does so much else sleep
while this child of wood whiskeys
across my wrinkling face, dancing,
as if she’ll never feel the axe.
4 responses to Crescent Moon
“the oil of an Arabian child’s blood whistling
this empire’s chromed wheel’s glory forward”
This very line first led me to your poetry and to a glimpse of you as a person. It’s your ability, at those times when you’re inspired and focused, to load a cache of interconnected ideas into a few lines of poetry and fire them. Mightier than the sword? I have to agree, being against war and violence myself and trying however tentatively, to wield my pen as a weapon that works on minds and hearts. And succeeding a tiny bit.
Thank you for this video(I might’ve asked for it but you read my thoughts)and for sharing the background. I’d wondered about South Road. The English rocker metaphor of course fits Bush’s collaborator across the pond! So many phrases jump out at the reader – “baptizes,” “Christmas joy,” “dreams of flour…”
I so enjoyed the image of a jiggling, jelly-beaned Christmas tree! Metaphorically speaking, I thought the poem was brilliant. The crescent moon reference is a dichotomy of both acceptance and rejection, depending on to whom you refer in the Islamic world, which is neither here nor there. But you have to know that I revelled in the rhyming of facts/axe! One of my favorites, Stephen!
~E
I AM SENDING THIS RESPONSE ON BEHALF OF AMAR COURNOYER AS HE ADVICED ME!
“CRESCENT MOON REMINDS ME ABOUT FOLLOWING POEM”
General, your tank is a powerful vehicle.
It smashes down forests and crushes men.
But it has one defect:
It needs a driver.
General, your bomber is powerful.
It flies faster than a storm
and carries more than an elephant.
But it has one defect:
It needs a mechanic.
General, man is very useful.
He can fly and he can kill.
But he has one defect:
He can think.
by Bertolt Brecht
Germany (1898-1956)
Thank you.
This poem is profound. My first reaction was to the little girl that ignorance is bliss. The wording “casual facts” is subtle yet cutting. When you spoke of poetry being benign and small words leading… I thought that is true however it doesn’t reach the masses and move people like it does us, the lucky few. The usage of alliteration always seduces me.
I’m always looking for new teachers.