Clay & Incense
a poem
Hey, necromancer.
I found your grave.
It was simple:
I traced the stencil of your life
from postcards memorized.
Remember?
You wrote me once
from this shore. Told
of sea birds black
as hellebore.
The wind chimes speak of your return.
They rattle.
Freezing, perhaps by the magic
you pull from the mist.
Cheering you on, luring
your crawl from the rot.
Necromancer,
I know what spells are.
My mind
sops up beauty unlimited.
Clay beneath the beach.
Watch me sculpt sandcastles
to fall in the rain, crumble
in the sun.
Yet they harden longer
than you think.
Nothing lasts…yet
beauty knows no limit.
You wrote of museums, once.
Imposing, gilded places
that sang with voices of the past.
I found yours yesterday.
They say long ago,
a man was murdered;
archaeologist
who dug up bits
of you.
(Well, your history.)
It scared me
to hear that particular
echo
(and museums
ought to echo
just to remind you
of your smallness.)
But this echo
echo…echo…
was borne out of empty.
It scared me to hear it.
I wonder if you’d raise its voice
from the dead?
You curation was
puff exhibits
smoke figures
jawless skulls.
Millions
and one long
unending
echo.
Nothing lasts forever,
you know.
Necromancer, I see
your truth.
The siren called me
away today. Lonesome notes
and gasps the rhythm,
tearing me apart.
I knew then, your fate:
You saw yourself in her eyes,
challenged. She stole you
under. Yet
here you are, pulsing
below the earth. Incensed.
When you rise,
I wonder who’ll set you ablaze
first. Unholy form, be damned!
Many to witness the smolder—
this cleansing
from your power.
Spells are just wishes
from beyond the veil,
shiny things
ravens trade souls for.
I’ll pluck from your mound
all this hellebore,
this, your final postcard.
***
A/N: This was written for Poppy's February Prompts. See below.
About the Creator
Mackenzie Davis
“When you are describing a shape, or sound, or tint, don’t state the matter plainly, but put it in a hint. And learn to look at all things with a sort of mental squint.” Lewis Carroll
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'20/20'
"Do It Again" the track that would ultimately open the Beach Boys final album on Capitol Records which was released on February 10th 1969 had originally been released as a single in August of 1968. The track was the first of many post-Pet Sounds era throwbacks to the early Beach Boys sound which would become continually more cliched and eventually lead the Beach Boys to the level of self-parody they would eventually succumb to in the 1980s while their closest contemporaries The Beatles nearing the end of their run in 1969 would go on to be viewed as the most influential band of all time. However, the song itself is not bad on its surface, and it opens with a futuristic sounding (for 1969) drumbeat captured by then-Beach Boys engineer Stephen Desper using tape delays on the drums performed by Dennis Wilson and John Guerin. The song has been re-recorded numerous times over the years on various Beach Boys-related projects most notably the 2011 re-recording at Capitol studios featuring the five surviving Beach Boys at the time backed instrumentally by various members of both the Brian Wilson Band and Mike Loves touring "Beach Boys" to promote the then upcoming Beach Boys 50th Anniversary reunion tour in 2012. The hammering and power drill sound at the end of the song was an excerpt from a track called "Workshop" that was to be a part of the uncompleted "SMiLE" album.
By Sean Callaghan6 days ago in Beat
Comments (40)
I was so intigued by the imagery in this poem when I first read it, not even realizing it was for a challenge. This is one of those pieces that creates a mood that lingers after the last note fades.
Wonderful, mystical poetry! 'Told of seabirds black as hellebore' fairly glides off my tongue. Congratulations on top story! This poem hints at hidden depths and forgotten powers. I read it twice to see if I could tease out its magic but save for the siren voice that once pulled the necromancer under and called to you as well, I failed. Probably better that way. There is a reason that I love Emily Dickenson's poetry and it has absolutely nothing to do with it understanding any of it. Sometimes I need to let go of the urge to make connections and simply luxuriate in the magic and let it sooth me with its own alien tongue.
Goodness this was fantastic!! Wow, Mackenzie. I loved the bits about the necromancer. It gave this such a heavy feel. Truly wonderful work :)
This was amazing
Damn, damn, damn... First place? You bet... Excellent work!
This was beyond words for me. Such an incredibly written piece.
Magnificent!!! Congratulations on this week's Leaderboard win!!!♥️♥️💕
Eerily enticing; you're one hell of a poet!
Wow. This was an absolute journey. Enchanting, mysterious, and for some reason terrifying.
Congrats on the top story!!!
Exceptional effort! Keep up the remarkable work—congratulations!
Splendid work! Keep the momentum—congrats!
Wonderful lines! This poem is expertly written. Congratulations on a well-deserved Top Story, Mackenzie.
Congrats on top story.
Congratulations
Like the stanzas' length, this poem gave me a thrill. Congratulations on Top Story.
Back to say congratulations on your Top Story! 🎉💖🎊🎉💖🎊
congratulations on TS. This is eerily awesome.
I enjoyed this tremendously. Just wanted to let you know. x
Reading this felt like holding something very delicate and fragile. Hellebore and the museum reference! Congrats on the TS MD! 😊
Incredible, Mackenzie! "(and museums ought to echo just to remind you of your smallness.)" will run through my mind eery time I step into one from now on. Brilliant, brilliant work! Congratulations!
This is amazing. So deep, and so many incredible lines. These stood out "Spells are just wishes from beyond the veil, shiny things ravens trade souls for." Well done and congrats on the TS.
Woot Woot! There's one of my favourite people getting her well-deserved Top Story! Congratulations, Mackenzie!
Boom. Yay, there it is. congrats on Top Story, pally!
Oh wow, this is absolutely phenomenal!