We are honoured to feature a poem by Nicolette Stasko, who was kind enough to attend the launch of Philament in September 2003 to read from her latest book. The below was in part an inspiration for the “Blue” theme of the current issue. It is eeprinted from The Weight of Irises (Blackpepper Press, 2003) through the gracious permission of Nicolette Stasko.
1
Eyes open
after four days of fevered sleep
a crown of candles
burns on the dresser
twelve blue iris
incandescent
in the morning light seemed
a sign of something
a gift from the world
unasked for
unmortgaged now
with wild
abandoned wings they fly
and settle like
bright swallows
around the room
send a message I beg
we are!
we are!
they sing
2
Where does one find
a word
for such a blue
this iris-colour that exists
in dreams
where is the word
for flesh of seraphim
luminous as a child’s eyes
would melt between human fingers
tissue of sky of star
of this earth and not of this earth
O white despair
3
Irises begin to darken
the way eyes do
in certain moods
in certain light
their yellow centres turn
to tarnished gold
they do not lose their petals
as other flowers
but curl back
into themselves
to the place
before they were born
withdrawing
all the blue
from the world
