This nightly light makes
rooms from ash graves
And bird weep the edges of
our walking
Here the corners of your
body are mine to lie in
Your voice the first and
last part of dark
I take it quick and am
fuller than you knew
My brim washed well in a
steam that will not break
We have not been solid for
a moment
Our ashes scattering
hopeless and warm
To trust in dew to bring
the smotes down
Rebecca Nash is a young Christchurch poet whom I first encountered at the WomanScream reading at the Pallet Pavilion. I will leave the rest of the description to Rebecca who has an inimitable way with words: "Rebecca Nash was born in
Auckland in 1988. She relocated to Lyttelton via Dunedin and Dublin for the love
of the chilled empty sea. She has been published in Minarets Journal,
The Press, and on a Phantom Billstickers poster. She also occasionally teaches
teenagers about writing poetry at The School for Young Writers in Christchurch
and spouts spurious wisdom at poetry readings throughout the city. She is
inspired by walking alone and through her experiences with a chaotic mind and
heart."
It can often be hard to describe why you like a certain poem or a certain poet's work and so I will only say that Rebecca's poetry "immerses" me in some way and my response is more visceral than intellectual. Her imagery often takes me by surprise and rearranges the world for me in a quirky way that I enjoy. She reads it well too which just enhances the experience. In a way that the grand old master of recitation, Sam Hunt, would appreciate, Rebecca's poetry is art for the ear and for the heart.
"Art for the ear and for the heart" -- how can we not like this? The second stanza is gorgeous, and I love the ending, too. Very glad to read this today. Will watch for more of this poet!
ReplyDeleteSome truly beautiful language here...
ReplyDelete'And bird weep the edges of our walking'
Thanks for posting this Andrew. I look forward to reading more of Rebecca.