Thread: Staking Claim

She brims with enamor over the notion
Of the rolling curves; the fat
Of the land.
She forages through the land’s lovely crevices,
Prospecting for the offering of its fallen fruits.
The pristine, primeval soil lays dormant.
Like her, its surface is only stirred by
Sporadic storms.
Unlike the beasts that ruled the land
Before the cruelty of humanity devoured it,
She scorns the challenge of brutish pursuit.

The land is her darling.
It never challenges her place to tramp on it.
It cannot threaten her with infidelity.

The supple, comfortable nature of
The fat of humanity repels her.
Its complexity, uncertainty,
And the manner in which it moves, thinks,
And refuses to regard her.

She reserves the right to sink her stake
Into the gritty soil, the unresponsive regions,
Of others.
And only into the parts that allow themselves
To safely be walked on.

But the soil shelters something,
Rooted far beneath the fathoming of man.
Beneath its layers that are marked by
Innumerable manufactured years,
Hidden within its body of powdery rock,
And profoundly inexplicable parts,
Which were fiercely forced asunder by the
Fervor of floods,
The icy blanket of inclement winters,
Slashed and scorched, but never consumed,
By ancient flame:
A secret.

She, a mere sliver
Of rapidly disintegrating sinew,
Will never know
That the dirt of the earth
Won’t be owned.

I loved this. The whole thing flowed really well, and you really captured this woman's voice. The imagery as well was wonderful - I could picture it very easily. The only thing I might suggest is not capitalizing every line - I know it may only be me, but it distracts me a bit. I definitely look forward to reading more of your work.

Thank you so much for the positive feedback and the suggestion, Damien!

Hi Celeste and welcome to WF. This is a very provocative introductory piece. In mood and point, it reminds me of Brian Wilson's "Beaks of Eagles" from his California Trilogy. I'm attaching the Youtube video. I agree with Damien about those caps on each line. It's a pain that Word does that automatically but it can be corrected manually.

I enjoyed this very much Celeste, it is intriguing. The last stanza was a perfect ending for me.

She, a mere sliver
Of rapidly disintegrating sinew,
Will never know
That the dirt of the earth
Won’t be owned.

Thank you all so much for the feedback!

Welcome, Celeste, such passion a secret no more. I can only echo what's already been said, this is an extremely well executed piece, your language is superb and your flow hasn't a hitch. Like Cindy, I adore that final stanza. Way to make an entrance, love, I will be awaiting your future offerings with bated breath.

Best,
Lisa

I read this on a couple of different levels. I felt that the landscape was a metaphor for the body. Fat, crevices, the changes with experience, time and age, trying to accept, acknowledging yet hating it's journey. I may be all wrong, but I could certainly see the thought. Celeste, this is a very interesting and well written piece of poetry. It has a wonderful agelessnes to it. Welcome. I am looking forward to reading more of your "stuff".

Beautiful.

I enjoyed your nearly sensual painting of her fascination with the land. My eye and my mind wanted to read 'The pristine, primeval soil lays (fallow...') rather than 'dormant', but I'm getting downright petty.

'...the unresponsive regions(,) of others. Again, just my eye, but I would remove the comma.

I love the truth of the last line. The piece is meant to be read again and again, for different images appear with each read. It meant a lot to me. Here in New Mexico we feel close to the sky and earth, and are close to the various interpretations of nature by the Native Americans.

I now have a poignant new phrase to describe the physical aspect of mankind: "a mere sliver of rapidly disintegrating sinew"

Wow. I hadn't expected so much wonderful positive feedback. Thank you all very much!

Apple - You are right on about your interpretation. Sigh of relief! The woman is searching for a connection, but is unable to attach herself to anything. The image is meant to be contradictory in some ways. She is dry, untended, and abandoned. But she flatters and comforts herself with thoughts that she is as timeless as the land. Yet even her connection with, and understanding of, the land is weak. I was exploring the idea of femininity in relation to nature. Also was exploring the brevity of humanity as a whole.

Thank you for reading!

Al Carty - I really love the word "fallow" in place of "dormant". It denotes something more feminine, I think (seed, growth inside, etc.). Especially since the image is of a woman without a connection to anything sentimental, including children. I think I may need to steal your idea. The poem was definitely inspired by some Native American views. But the new, modern adopted version of these views is somewhat bastardized. There isn't as much humility in it, which is part of what the poem is also about. So thanks again for your feedback!