Prompt #77 and Tale Weavers #30 “Chalice”

Wilde

There is no incision

That does not compromise its host.

I thought I might bleed today,

Drag my ancestors

From their common red graves,

A séance where no one speaks

Their secrets are safe in me

Perhaps repeated but never staged.

 

I am the jar, the chalice,

The latched box

Inside of me even darkness laments.

Those who live in the gutter

Brew in the piss of their benefactors

Those who live in the gutter

Never forget that foremost

In their composition are stars.

 

The clouds are my anchors

I flicker as a man

Approaching death

In another war

I might have been a gun

A solider, a limping child

I might even have been a stone

Mute, encrypted,

Worshiped in retrospect.

 

I am not limited to what I perceive

Some days I curse and others sow

There is naught to do but ascend

But I’ve done my fair share of tunneling

Hope is always stronger

When there is no where else to go.

 

You may find me ignoble, wanting

You may scoff at my suffering

My education, the tenor of my constructs.

I am proof of your excess

Proof that a smile heals

What antiseptic can only bleach

Proof that love is endemic

And that when there is nothing

Left to give, there is still more

Than enough to share.

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20 responses to “Prompt #77 and Tale Weavers #30 “Chalice”

  1. I love the prompt. It’s one of my favourite quotes ever. I also loved how you spun off of that to include allusions to reincarnation. (At least, that’s what I got from it.) We could have been born anybody. Or maybe we were somebody else at another point in time. We are all of us tethered to circumstance in some way, shape or form.

    • Exactly Tony, I think we forget just how connected we are, we have all these illusions about what we would do and say in someone else’s situation, how we’d handle it differently, without having any understanding of the situation or the person we are all just trying to survive and like it or not we are all in it together

      • I absolutely agree with you, Yves. It’s easy to forget that the only thing in life we have control over is our choices. And choices aren’t always easy or comfortable, nor do they often lead to places we’d like them to.

        Sometimes we can’t even help what we think or feel, so what do we do based on that? We choose what our path will be, mired though it be in a swamp of circumstances we’d rather not have to trudge through. Aaa-aaa-aaand… I’ll leave it at that before I come up with another tortured metaphor. 😛

  2. if only we did not forget that our composition is of stars….really fascinating prospects in this…the being a jar containing as well is a cool image too….seriously cool verse…

  3. Unbelievably good opening:

    “There is no incision
    That does not compromise its host.” (this is my favorite part)

    “I thought I might bleed today,
    Drag my ancestors
    From their common red graves”

    Love these lines as well:

    “I am the jar, the chalice,
    The latched box”

    “Worshiped in retrospect”

    “I am proof of your excess”

    “when there is nothing
    Left to give, there is still more
    Than enough to share”

  4. “…when there is nothing
    Left to give, there is still more
    Than enough to share.”

    Looks like I’m not the only one who finds favor with these lines.
    Gutters come in all shapes and sizes. Some are made of cardboard and others brick. But to remember we are stardust… that is a might powerful hope indeed.

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