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68th Virtual Poetry Circle


Welcome to the 68th Virtual Circle!

Remember, this is just for fun and is not meant to be stressful.

Keep in mind what Molly Peacock’s books suggested. Look at a line, a stanza, sentences, and images; describe what you like or don’t like; and offer an opinion. If you missed my review of her book, check it out here.

Continuing our exploration of Halloween poetry, we’re turning to a contemporary poet Paisley Rekdal:

Bats

unveil themselves in dark.
They hang, each a jagged,

silken sleeve, from moonlit rafters bright
as polished knives. They swim

the muddled air and keen
like supersonic babies, the sound

we imagine empty wombs might make
in women who can’t fill them up.

A clasp, a scratch, a sigh.
They drink fruit dry.

And wheel, against feverish light flung hard
upon their faces,

in circles that nauseate.
Imagine one at breast or neck,

Patterning a name in driblets of iodine
that spatter your skin stars.

They flutter, shake like mystics.
They materialize. Revelatory

as a stranger’s underthings found tossed
upon the marital bed, you tremble

even at the thought. Asleep,
you tear your fingers

and search the sheets all night.

Let me know your thoughts, ideas, feelings, impressions. Let’s have a great discussion…pick a line, pick an image, pick a sentence.

I’ve you missed the other Virtual Poetry Circles. It’s never too late to join the discussion.

  • I’m interested that someone who can see that they’re like “silken sleeves”–a pleasant image–ends up conveying such an attitude of fear about them.
    Jeanne´s last blog post ..Family Happiness

  • I really liked the imagery in this poem, especially these lines:

    “They swim

    the muddled air and keen
    like supersonic babies, the sound

    we imagine empty wombs might make
    in women who can’t fill them up.”
    Anna´s last blog post ..Mailbox Monday — October 25