Chicago - Dec. 15, 2017
Music TV Politics Sports Books People Places & Things
 
Beachwood PP&T
Our monthly PP&T archive.
Chicagoetry
Rhymes for the Times.
Beachwood Bookmarks
So You've Decided To Be Evil
Vintage Beer Signs
Easy Bar Tricks
Best of Craigslist
Wacky Packages
Chicagology
Taquitos Snack Food Reviews
How Products Are Made
Everyday Mysteries
Chicago Zombie
FAIL
Texts From Last Night
Fuck My Life
Awkward Family Photos
QuackWatch
Alcademics
Lamebook
Ultra Local Geography
Uncyclopedia
Best Pinball Machine Ever
Land of Sky Beer Waters
Calumet 412
Chicago Patterns
Vince Michael's Time Tells

Chicagoetry: A Wren in a Wreath

A Wren in a Wreath

So: there's this ghoul
in my soul,

a wren in my wreath.
In a heart full of holes

lurks a golem of grief.

A compendium of flaws,
a contraption of fate, he.
He's not everything,
he's just a part of me.

Of course, I have forged
a life mask with a modicum
of charm and finesse

(God! To get through the day!)

and crowned my fell heart
with a laureate's wreath
for endurance under duress.

Like us all, I swirl
with embattled selves.

Within croaks a ghoul
with an elephant's memory
for bleak humiliation
and roiling defeat.

I've christened him
the wren in my wreath.

He commands a gallows
of heartworn dreams, caretakes
a graveyard of botched ambition.

He embodies my Elephant Man:
swollen skull of cracked, grey leather,
hair-sprouting warts, drooling lips,
a vocabulary of phlegm-wracked slurs.

Yep: like a drunk
just a shot away.

I don't like him
but I must love him.

Because he's there.

Stress, fatigue
and crude draughts of relief

enable the guy
with the elephant grief.

Garlanded elephant
with a wren mahout
straddling his blades
and whipping his flank.

OK: not one wren
but a chime of wrens
like a murder of crows
with a case of the bends.

He's there, my wren,
my wrench in the works.

This Eve of All Hallows
I'll drag my life mask to the gallows
and for this night

I'll let the wren reign.

Yep: I'll purge the wrath
and savor compassion
for all ravens, rooks and knaves.

This night shall go judgment
to the grave.

To dawn
and the Day of All Saints
I bequeath

my shabby heart, my wren,
my wreath.

-

J.J. Tindall is the Beachwood's poet-in-residence. He welcomes your comments. Chicagoetry is an exclusive Beachwood collection-in-progress.

-

More Tindall:

* Chicagoetry: The Book

* Ready To Rock: The Music

* Kindled Tindall: The Novel



Permalink

Posted on October 25, 2011


MUSIC - The Week In Chicago Rock.
TV - Cricket vs. Brexit.
POLITICS - Trailer: Swing District.
SPORTS - Ryan Pace's Narratives Are Killing Us.

BOOKS - Chicago For Dummies.

PEOPLE PLACES & THINGS - The Sears Motor Buggy.


Search The Beachwood Reporter

Subscribe To Our Newsletter
Email:

Follow BeachwoodReport on Twitter



Beachwood Radio!


Ask Me Anything!



Wool and Hoop