"jeannette" poems
I am weary of lying within the chase
When the knights are meeting in market-place.
Nay, go not thou to the red-roofed town
Lest the hoofs of the war-horse tread thee down.
But I would not go where the Squires ride,
I would only walk by my Lady’s side.
Alack! and alack! thou art overbold,
A Forester’s son may not eat off gold.
Will she love me the less that my Father is seen
Each Martinmas day in a doublet green?
Perchance she is sewing at tapestrie,
Spindle and loom are not meet for thee.
Ah, if she is working the arras bright
I might ravel the threads by the fire-light.
Perchance she is hunting of the deer,
How could you follow o’er hill and mere?
Ah, if she is riding with the court,
I might run beside her and wind the morte.
Perchance she is kneeling in St. Denys,
(On her soul may our Lady have gramercy!)
Ah, if she is praying in lone chapelle,
I might swing the censer and ring the bell.
Come in, my son, for you look sae pale,
The father shall fill thee a stoup of ale.
But who are these knights in bright array?
Is it a pageant the rich folks play?
‘T is the King of England from over sea,
Who has come unto visit our fair countrie.
But why does the curfew toll sae low?
And why do the mourners walk a-row?
O ‘t is Hugh of Amiens my sister’s son
Who is lying stark, for his day is done.
Nay, nay, for I see white lilies clear,
It is no strong man who lies on the bier.
O ‘t is old Dame Jeannette that kept the hall,
I knew she would die at the autumn fall.
Dame Jeannette had not that gold-brown hair,
Old Jeannette was not a maiden fair.
O ‘t is none of our kith and none of our kin,
(Her soul may our Lady assoil from sin!)
But I hear the boy’s voice chaunting sweet,
‘Elle est morte, la Marguerite.’
Come in, my son, and lie on the bed,
And let the dead folk bury their dead.
O mother, you know I loved her true:
O mother, hath one grave room for two?
2.2k
“The tower is my body, the cage is my skull, and the spirit singing to comfort itself is me. But I am not comforted, I am alone. **** me.”
Sexing The Cherry - Jeannette Winterson
The boy who came from the sea was born
In 1989 with eleven hyenas and a powdered grace and an IV in one of
Those sad street lights
One mid-morning all the neon light flickering from last night’s
Tired and under-sexed collision of bodies on mercury.
The mother beget the sea while she was dancing and
All the exotic and fancy things that come with it
Is written on the newspaper
She dangled back and forth in the chandelier while giving birth and a gun in her
Hand: the whole world was in her hands.
Blood and flesh debris are pink as shore and pale as rubies like
Exploding stars.
People begin to ask you: “How’d you stay alive?”
The mother’s nightly arrival at that city burns the sorrows of all the light bulbs:
“Help me please” typed on a marquee.
If you sing the birth of your death, everyone will sing: lie down, don’t cry be alive again.
The sea born seemingly dead already returning back to hell, only can be restored by
The mother’s lovingly touch but the touch of hers burns the sea
When she is barely warm.
Cold-hearted angels will rescue you and you’ll be free-
Only for tonight.
The sea, sized milk carton box and the mother drives south this year.
People filled to watch the sea but it radiates they can’t be near you.
No one will save you.
May 29, 2015
May 29, 2015 at 3:27 AM UTC
The morning sun appears showing us
Who is the star of the day?
It shows it power, until the rain
Comes out to play:
It sends a message to the evening shadow
Asking of it to confuse the night,
With diamond shape stars,
and moonlight and magnolias trails,
Light up the sky with star lights
We need the light, more than the dark
But we need both the sun and the rain
Said the weather man from sandy lane:
But who one needs the icy snow,
That one has to go:
It reveals it hatred just like the evil Snow Queen
So each morning as you wake, think of how
The morning sun appears showing us
Who is the star of the day?
##“If you want to be reminded of the love of the Lord, just watch the sunrise.” ##
― Jeannette Walls, Half Broke Horses
Apr 1, 2018
Apr 1, 2018 at 4:55 PM UTC