A Phoenix Flux
 

A Phoenix Flux (2)

Talons splitting my chest, the Phoenix
gripped my lungs with flaming wings,

their stunning heat, dense clotted blood,
blocked breath’s passage to my heart,

and flaring brighter blackened my brain
until we died: Did our mixed ashes,

rekindled by the hands of medics,
make breathing once again take flight?



A Phoenix Flux

The Phoenix's talons cut my chest
and flaming wings embraced my lungs,

singed and squeezed them tighter and tighter,
blocking breath’s passage to my heart

and blackening my panicked brain
until we died: Did our mixed ashes,

rekindled by the human medics,
make breathing once again take flight?

Edits:

L1 was The Phoenix landed in my chest

Hi, Ralph—

I like the comparison of a survived cardiac episode to the death and rebirth of the Phoenix. In this poem the phoenix does double duty, representing both the heart attack and the resuscitated patient. The last line could be interpreted two ways. “Breathing . . . tak[ing] flight” could mean that breathing has restarted its fluttering motion, or it could mean that breathing has flown away (i.e. stopped). I also like the use of plosive /t/, /b/, /d/ and /p/ sounds in S2 &3 to suggest the blocked breathing and the panicky feeling as the speaker gasps for air. Nice job!

Glenn

Hi RCL--

What a great idea for a poem! The phoenix's violent death and rebirth is a perfect metaphor for one brought back to life after a heart-attack. What it brought into my mind was the first line of Yeat's Leda and the Swan "A sudden blow: the great wings beating still".

That being said, I had trouble scanning this, on the first, and repeated, readings. The first line, in particular, felt like just three feet on my first reading (like a limerick!). From there, it carries on without much regard for setting up a rhythm at all.

If it's to be a metrical poem, I think you'll have to decide on a rhythm and build around it. But I hope you do, since the idea is very cool.

Hello Ralph,

This is a good metaphor. I hope all is well.

Hi Ralph

I also think it's an arresting image.

The line I like least is the penultimate "rekindled by human medicos". I'm assuming "medicos" is a plural of medico, rather than a strictly latin concept word. In the UK we might say "medics" rather than "medico". But anyway, I think you could find a more engaging phrase for the miracle of rekindling. I hope your flame burns bright.

Joe

All: it was a blood clot that attacked my lungs and put me at death’s door. Still in recovery.

Glenn, thanks for the good words, sharp ears and eyes!

Paula, your response is greatly appreciated and I plead guilty to bad measures.

Yves, It’s not one I could have dreamed up without the experience! Thanks.

Joe, It was indeed an “arresting” experience. Thanks for the note on medicos.

I think “medics” is worlds better. “Medicos” sounded flippant to me, and we all owe them a debt of gratitude if they saved your life. A speedy recovery to you, Ralph!

Very effective poem, Ralph. I love the idea of ashes and rebirth in this context.

Glad you are on the mend!

The imagery is stunning for me, and the alliterative patterns as well. "Flaming wings embraced my lungs" has to be my favorite line, as it paints such a vivid picture. That said, I also struggled to have the meter worked out and I couldn't really gauge it for the life of me.

Also, hope you're feeling better. Must have been a harrowing experience.

For some reason, this is a poem I don't understand. Given that everyone seems to understand it, I see that as my shortcoming. I understand that the Phoenix is reborn in fire, and I know what a heart attack is, but those two images don't combine for me.

I do have one suggestion: The word "human" doesn't belong, in my opinion. You could just say "medics" (a very specific word) and everyone will know they are human. Or, to keep the meter, say:

rekindled by the skill of medics
- or -
rekindled by the hands of medics