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Sunday, March 4, 2007

Superstition

(For Sunday Scribblings)

The lines between superstition,
myth and religion have always blurred into one another for me. Their literal meanings don’t hold the magic; I find the magic in what their symbols and language conjure up. It’s why I collect tarot cards – not to foretell the future, but to use my reactions to their images as a way to dig up what is going on beneath my surface. It’s like the way we can discover the multiple layers of meaning in a poem by paying close attention to its language. But it’s not the cards I want to write about. New Orleans has always been the most delicious concoction of superstition, myth and religion. A place that, even when I didn’t ask, has pressed her breath close to my ear and murmured her offerings. Sometimes I was thrilled with her gifts; other times it took me a while to warm up to them. She’s not always easy to fathom. Here’s a piece for her:

A moon hangs low and yellow while the bayou sits hourless. The white orchid tree offers up new blossoms to the night, one red drop pauses at the edge of a petal. A Screech owl’s stunned eyes search for its hunger. I sit behind the dragging branches of a Cypress, the echo of the city in my eyes and the heat over my mouth like a heavy hand. The Gris-Gris bag hangs damp between my breasts. Everything is waiting.



12 comments:

Marilyn said...

Oooh, I love this! And love that you chose to write about one of my favorite cities for this prompt. Thanks so much for stopping by my blog and leaving that comment.

MissMeliss said...

Found you at the Sunday Scribblings blog. I'm new to the meme and am checking other bloggers out.

LOVE your poem. . .it feels just right.

sundaycynce said...

Fascinating speculation. At least I think it's speculation. If not, it's rather scary. Lots of dark mystery surrounds New Orleans, a place I have very little first hand knowledge of. Superstition there, I assume, takes on quite a bit more weight and shadow.

Almi said...

I really enjoyed reading through your writings. Great photos too.

KG said...

Your writing is a pleasure to read. That's fascinating that you collect Tarot cards, as is the reason you do it.

Since the flooding in New Orleans, my thoughts have been with her often. I've never been there, yet I feel I know her a bit better after reading your poem.

Bohemian Mom said...

Excellent scribblings on superstition....I really enjoyed reading that.
I missed this week because I spent the weekend moving to a new place.

gautami tripathy said...

Beautiful photo.

I enjoyed your reflections. Good to be part of SS where we get to read about other parts of the world.

Patresa said...

...delicious concoction of superstition, myth and religion.

even when I didn't ask, has pressed her breath close to my ear...

A moon hangs low...

one red drop pauses at the edge...

the dragging branches of a cypress

Everything is waiting.

BEAUTIFUL, BEAUTIFUL.

Cynthia said...

I am so glad you came by my blog. I know I'll be back to yours. I have a thing for tarot cards and New Orleans is one of my favorite places anywhere, so this reached me.

Crafty Green Poet said...

Thanks for visiting my blog so I could find this piece, I'm not doing Sunday Scribblings at the moment. I really like this piece. I agree with your comment that its not the literal but the symbolism that holds the magic. I also love the lyricism of your end piece about New Orleans.

Rav`N said...

thanks for stopping by my blog. glad I got a chance to read this piece. Very lyrical and beautifully descriptive/symbolic. You know, to me it sounds like a proes poem so I think you underestimate your ability to come up with poems. I'd love to see what you come up with for Poetry Thursday. Give it a try. You don't even have to follow their prompt. I often don't.

Emily said...

Your writing is beautiful...the introduction was beautiful in itself...this is lovely.