Tag Archive | phoenix

three’s a charm (Happy New Year 3)

Yes, we are here.  So soon after the solstice it’s Happy New Year.  Year THREE of my life in the obelisk has just passed by.

This year Hawk found a record underneath a rock.  We called it crow morphology and tried, unsuccessfully, to decipher it.  Henriette sent a postcard–she found a job in Venezuela!  I invited her to visit us in the obelisk, but I haven’t heard from her again.  I dreamed on cosmic dream radio: deer crashing, and a song from the sountrack of my favorite movie.   I wondered “Are you bringing me flowers?”  (YOU.  YES YOU.)   Black Swan did bring flowers from the marsh but Hawk brought me a squirrel tail  which Owl promptly ate.  I was so glad.  I mean, sad.

For the solstice, the birds made me a niche.  Three years in the obelisk and I finally have a niche!

Owl just lifted one foot then stomped it on my desk to remind me that Owl, also, made scrapbook pages while a certain Odalisque was off dreaming in a funk.  Owl wrote about Owl things here and here.

As usual, I got more crazy notes burnt on my pillow by the phoenix.   And google eyes agoged (FIND ME YOU YES YOU).

Here are some pictures from my scrapbook this year:

Here is a dream I dreamed:

 

monarda didyma

Summer is here!

All winter  I imagined days so long long long I would have nothing left to do by the end of them but wait, far into the evening, for the light to finally fade.

All winter I imagined today.

Let’s stir up some spirits; spirits of evergreens, angelica, ice.   Blesséd spirits cool the hot temples.  Phoenix fire will lure the fire-flies to the obelisk;  I look forward to the show.  Black Swan is undoubtedly bringing me a beak-full of beebalm, little red firecrackers just for me.   Hawk is hoping to celebrate the solstice with a squirrel.  Well, not exactly “with”: the squirrel won’t be celebrating.  Hawk promises me the tail–I am supposed to wear it somehow.  I don’t want a squirrel tail but Hawk doesn’t listen.

Owl, who knows everything I think and feel, promises to swallow the tail when Hawk, drowsy full with squirrel not-tail, falls asleep.

Owl, oh owl, the-one-who-fills-in.  Owl dreams of newborn spring rabbits, velvety soft sausages wriggling through an Owl esophagus.

Dinner can be pretty disgusting around here. It’s not my fault: I only eat art, mostly painted by dutch masters.  Very civilized I am, dining nightly on lustrous silver, pewter and crystal.

Black Swan floats upon the table, neatly munching duckweed.

But tonight!  Beyond spirits, a fast.  I will break-fast tomorrow, perhaps on a Manet bun.

Yes.  I will have a Manet bun.

I can make tea from the beebalm leaves, without disturbing the flowers.

They are a favorite flower.

 

 

icy spirits

The days only get shorter from here but let’s not think about that now.  It will be warm for some time yet.

Happy Summer Solstice!

–The Odalisque

PS:  Crow is hopefully being crow, not parrot, off performing his own rituals.  Crow-as-crow, upon a heap of stones.

The starlings are raising their nestlings.  Lots of little mouths practically an insecticide fumigating the marsh.

 

why does the phoenix (billet 4)

a candle in my ear burned down to ash.  wake up.  eyelashes caked with ash.   head thick with smoke. obscure.

o reader

o out-there

here:

fig. 6:  astrolabe/the stairs

figure 6: the stairs

(the phoenix leaves flaming notes on my pillow.  Click to read the last billet doux…)

there are no words left.

it doesn’t matter what you say.

it matters what you do.

what will you do?

why does the phoenix (billet 3)

Why does the phoenix want to garb me in fire?  Another pile of ash on my pillow.  Phoenix fiery billet-doux.   “Things unintelligible, yet understood.”

(click to read the previous billet-doux)

billet 3


do you know what but not how?
you will lose the path
in the fog of your emotions.
do not regret the past.
understand it.

you are the mud in which a stone is sunk.
clear your mind.
pick up the stone.
wetness skeins it like marble, smooth sculpted on
what shore?
where did you find this artifact?

what you call your life
is how you avoid living.
living–the outrageous adoration, absurd affirmation
of is’ness amidst all-vanish-es.

throw the stone of your heart
into the fire.
it might be an egg or a seed
that must be scorched
before it will hatch.

flying

why does the phoenix (billet 2)

Wake up.  The phoenix staked another billet-doux through my pillow with a splinter of arrowwood.

It is on fire.

Wake up.

Fizzling like a sparkler.

Burning Door

Billets hard to hold through waking.   They sizzle at the edge of dream.   Wake up.   They burn themselves out.  Pillow ash brings intense, peripheral feelings, mis-sequenced, uncertain, numinous.

(click to read the first billet-doux)

***
BURNING DOOR.  IN AND OUT AND IN
LET US BE WITH EACH OTHER
THE DAYS COUNT THEM]S[?]
STAND  BESIDE
PULL CLOSE
IT IS NICE TO BURN
(  OH
INTOXICATING THE LIGHT

why does the phoenix want to garb me in fire?

I first asked this question in my post on fashion.

[click to enlarge]

[cued]

 


( Phoenix: no fear of darkness.  darkness/fathoms/fire.  journey/easy. it circles/home.  ODALISQUE ODALISQUE ODALISQUE/you’re afraid of fire.  I bring a light/a match/and strike it.  FORGET MYSELF AND WATCH YOU.  COLLAPSE/LIKE WAX/COLLAPSES.  AROUND AN INTERIOR FLAME.)

conversations with birds: the phoenix favors fire over earth

I do not fear the terrible angels

their voices embroidered cloaks torn across

the sky, their heavily belted bodies,

strong hips, shield-bright eyes.

I do not fear them in the hard city.

Their draperies snag on its remote spires.

They drone in its unnavigable sky

like helicopters.

The angels I fear are mute

their wings waxy as aster petals

their bodies translucent carapace

curled grub-like in flight.

They don’t descend to the deathbed

swords drawn to the rift: death from life.

They hatch, insensate as seeds in

fresh turned earth.

 

What they require of me? 

that gently I take off

the look of suffered wrong

which often a little hinders

the pure movement of their spirits.

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