Tags
acceptance, alienation, alignment, authenticity, Elaine Stirling, letting go of negative, nonconformity, poetry, self-expression, self-worth, source energy
How alien I am to me
when choosing from my wounds
to speak, from gaping hollows
left by loves perceived inadequate
they served their time, they’re
gone and yet on guard I stand
divisible, emotions made a
soldiery, my only uniformity
I snap into salute, attention
piqued when those of petty or
attractive rank show stripes
of pain that match my own, or
better, not as great! For then
I can magnanimous appear
in empathy, subordinates will
surely note my stature and remark
among themselves upon my
generosity, no scent of tyranny
emits from these well-practiced
tears spilled out in clever
and effective rhyme.
How strange I make myself
to me, how dubious a friend
when tolerant I am of less
than intimate; most talk is small
enough without my help; our time
deep-squandered bits of nothing
much—agree or not, approve
I don’t or do, so what?
Everyone deserves better!
Of them all, no one will miss
me slipping out, I’m sure, the
door was never locked from
either side, the weak applause
already out of earshot, moonlit
sky, Orion near to standing
whispers in collusion with the
evening star, no metaphors
denied. Across the sky, they’re
welcoming; this rendezvous
of me with Me is love, reunified
and infinitely true.
~~~
© Elaine Stirling, 2013
Photograph of Orion constellation
from tomsastroblog.com
Oceantics 
You continue to astound me Elaine. These lines reflect the depth of that space that can indeed at times feel alien. This touches and moves through a series of feelings in an orchestrated manner that reveals to anyone who has ever experienced similar, many feelings they probably missed in themselves while in the throws of it. You have mirrored that true union that unfolds when true self meets true self. Well plucked from the bright eyes of night.
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they served their time, they’re
gone and yet on guard I stand
divisible, emotions made a
soldiery, my only uniformity
I snap into salute, attention
piqued when those of petty or
attractive rank show stripes
of pain that match my own, or
better, not as great!
These lines are indicative of your true mastery of imagery, to use details to build an over all image that gains impact as it develops.
The observer here commenting on the dialogue within the self reflects its own increasingly deep individuation.
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And finally, once, with enough readings the last verse sinks in, “no metaphors denied.” allows me to form the mental image of the masculine (creative) Orion the hunter in union with Venus the evening star, the feminine (receptive) in a very erotic and primal sexual way that is the very crux of union–in this case of the self with the self. I say again–well done!
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Russel, I hope that through the random miracles of social media that aspiring and experienced poets will take the time to read your comments, particularly with this piece. Your ability to walk through what we’ve done or haven’t done, how and where things appear, is masterful. I have increasingly less patience for poets who are content to “work intuitively”, thinking that if they tamper with their unawareness, some magical muse-fairy will poof away forever. Bloody hogwash! Whatever poofs away was meant to, and there will always be new and greater guides within. Our task is to approach them, not set them on higher and higher pedestals.
Thank you, Poet, for your kind comments and never-flagging generosity of spirit.
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To be continued?
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Definitely, Mikels, in a much longer format. This poem along with yesterday’s “jump”, you might call the practice swings.
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