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Quotes tagged “Snow”
my slow brooding bed of robin wings
my body slit & smearing everywhere.
I will not name this new opening a wound.
here, there is no pain I didn’t beg for.
I heard the howl, didn’t dare run.
stood waiting for the sweet blades
of jaw & claw. you found me
wasted no time making a myth
of my thigh, my flesh turned to wind
the earth under me wet with my life.
I pray this is what they mean by always
that heaven is a persistent mouth.
Baby, I want you forever this way:
fangs covered in me, moon dyed red
bouncing off front teeth, my body
only certain how to twitch, your belly
round with my joy.”
Before the hanging cross, the girls
take turns standing at attention before
us with eyes closed or hands clasped,
headbands bright green or bangles
yellow, glints that fill the silence like
falling snow. They recite poems they
have carried in their mouths for days,
and my desire to go back, to be one
among these slender, long-haired girls
is a thistle, sharp and twisting at my
side. The words psalm, blessing, lord
rise in me like bees heavy with pollen,
and the teenager I once was unzips
herself from me, shows up, a crocus
bristling through snow. She’s back
in the old chapel where the priest
again lifts into the air the Bible,
declaims about the kingdom of God,
gifts promised only the righteous—
the girl I was, heavy and slow in her
thick glasses, knew she would never
enter heaven, never be these pretty girls
singing, arms pale and slim as the white
birch whose branches, dappled with gold,
shade the stained glass window. In Pamuk’s
novel, Snow, the headscarf girls in Eastern Turkey
hang themselves rather than go uncovered,
and still I want that certainty of conviction,
even as the self beside me pulls on her hair,
sucks long strands of it deep into her mouth—
so I gather her in my arms, shake her, tell
her to listen, that the sky will always happen,
these branches. Sometimes, it causes me
to tremble, tremble, she sings beside these
girls who will grow into or away from their
bodies, and I know I must push the heavy
amber of her back inside me. Help me, Lord.
There are so many bodies inside this one.”
Hilda: As if we can do anything ELSE in this weather...”
Fonzie: Well, you'd be up a creek, Mrs. C.
Richie: Yeah, our car'd be stuck in the snow, our tree'd be out, and our Santa Claus would be mugging the neighbors.”
You look for the fresh prints.”
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Kelly Peacock is an accomplished poet and social media expert based in Brooklyn, New York. Kelly has a Bachelor's degree in creative writing from Farieligh Dickinson University and has contributed to many literary and cultural publications. Kelly assists on a wide variety of quote inputting and social media functions for Quote Catalog. Visit her personal website here.
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