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Forest Siren
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Tennessee Myth I sing on an outcropping of boulders
In the deep of the dark woods
Your rushing footsteps over crackling branches
And dead leaves
Quite suddenly stop
As you see me
Let me, by my wiles,
Lure you into the open
Where you gaze upon my naked beauty
Poems on your lips already
About my form and the smoothness of my skin
It delights me to hear your worship
As you draw closer to my den
My muscles tensing, my teeth bared,
But you think it is a grin
Our love affair will be quite brief
But less is always more
You sing to me; you seek my heart
I sing to you; I seek yours
Who doesn't love reading
Who doesn't love reading experiences that take them to another place?
The place you swept me away to was one of sensuality, nature and myth, and every step of the way you stirred the senses, sculpted earthy ambience and sparked human desire, primal and untamed.
Mesmerizing.
The siren is a huntress and her prey is doomed, but for one alluring, gorgeous moment, there was eloquent fire conjured in your gifted hands.
Starward's praise was well deserved.
Your pen is a wand!
Having mentioned this, and
Having mentioned this, and the fox poem, in a comment on the Buttercup essay, I needed to revisit these two again. And reading the siren's words is an even more intense experience than on the first reading. And, once again, I am reminded of several of my favorite tales from the horror or ghost story genre. And that is one of the most important aspects of your poem, that it resonates some part of the literary tradition to which it belongs---just as, for example, one is reminded of Homer while reading Vergil, and of Mallarme while reading Stevens or Eliot. A lot of Poets on this site impress me; but few have impressed me as much as you have in these two poems. They are equally moving; and, in certain aspects, equally chilling. I applaud your work most sincerely.
Starward
Wow! I did not expect to
Wow! I did not expect to begin my Saturday morning with a reading of such a brilliant poem, but here it is, right in front of me! And I applaud the strategy you have deployed: what appears to be moving toward a love poem in the second stanza, suddenly swerves into a horrific tale. And like the best of such tales (whether in verse or prose), historically, you do not depict, tritely, the gore and grue (like in a slasher film), but wisely leave such details to the reader's imagination (and the imagined is usually far more terrifying than the depicted).
Since my senior year in high school (back in the days of the dinosaurs, lol), I have loved, and collected, and loved some more contemporary poems that make use of ancient myth. You have brought a siren forth from ancient myth; you have kept the poem brief (and I think ancient Callimachus would have applauded this poem as much as I do), and you have allowed my imagination to participate by filling in the blanks that you have, wisely and adroitly, left open for your readers.
This is one of the most memorable poems of this genre that I have read in a long, long time, and I am sure I will be revisiting it often.
I just cannot praise this poem enough!
Starward