Angel Unaware: Poems
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About this ebook
Treating Biblical events with sincerity and respect, the poems explore the unity and logicality of a coherent and consistent world view. Phrases and images recur throughout to weave poems and sections together in order to express the sublime.
As literary poetry (a/k/a "academic" poetry, which is a rather stuffy-sounding term), the poems take various forms--sonnet, haiku, ballad, tercet, couplet, and prose poem, as well as other stanza variations and free verse forms. The uses of imagery, paradox, ambiguity, patterns of sound, and other devices serve to intensify the meaning and communication of experience.
From the introductory poems to the final ones, the reader should find poems that enlighten, delight, and possibly even shock, as characters, such as Eve, Bathsheba, and a servant-girl in Nero's court, are given voices to express their perception of events and circumstances.
As the poet Jeff Knorr writes, "When reading poetry, whether we're an experienced reader or not, one thing is certain: Poetry ought to move us [ . . . ] It might make us cry out loud over a page. It may move us to very simple and quiet contemplation of our own life [. . . ] And, poetry may turn us inside out without warning." May you react to these poems with any or all of these responses, and may you enjoy what you read.
Victoria Carroll
Victoria Carroll (M.A., English, Creative Writing, Emporia State University) has taught poetry, literature, and composition at ESU, University of Kansas, and at Baker University School of Professional and Graduate Studies. Winner of the 2003 Word Journal Poetry Prize, she has published work in that journal, the Connecticut Review, Flint Hills Review, The Midwest Quarterly, and other journals. Also an accountant, she lives with her husband in rural east Kansas.
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Angel Unaware - Victoria Carroll
Contents
Introduction
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Addendum
A Last Word
In loving memory
of my father and my mother,
whom I miss greatly
but will see again.
We have gone to the moon.
We have spoken to angels
of unspeakable matters …
—Vassar Miller,
Culture Shock
Introduction
At a touch of my hand
The air fills with delicate creatures
From the other world.
—James Wright,
Milkweed
An Angel Travels Across Human Time to Observe History Unfold
I. What I Observed Before the Current Assignment
Lucifer, clothed in music and light, cringed
when the Maker announced to the heavenly host and Spirit,
This is my Son. (We beheld one brighter than us all—
so bright, in fact, we had to shield our eyes.)
It wasn’t Lucifer to whom he pointed. I saw
the prince of angels wince, he whom we
had previously looked up to as our leader.
I saw his countenance grow dark, as though the stars
had fallen. His notes and chords discordant then,
I had to plug my ears lest I should hear
such disharmonious sound. And then a war
began. One third of my comrades sided with Lucifer,
convinced he’d win, appoint them to a throne.
They’re falling still—down,
and down,
and down.
II. Assignment: Earth
From lowest rank, my charge is simple: observe
the behavior of these new, human creatures, who
were made in my Master’s image, though (I think)
flawed. I find it odd the way they touch,
press their lips together, and moan. Their words
I understand. Although they don’t see me (made
of different stuff), they’re teaching me names of every
living creature: the dove has wings, the eagle,
the cockatoo; the kangaroo walks on two legs,
the cow and horse on four. What a host of diverse
breathing things! variety of flowers, bushes,
trees; and, oh! the air that carries scented
breeze from the greenest, most intriguing tree
of all—that one, in the garden’s very heart!
One
History, not wanted yet,
Lean’d on her elbow, watching Time, whose course,
Eventful, should supply her with a theme;
—William Cowper,
Yardley Oak
The Observing Angel Witnesses a Sudden Change
I
On temporal assignment from heaven’s regal place
and atmosphere, I found the surroundings here
at first to be quite pleasant. I perched beside
a river with four mouths; its babbling sound
reminded me of home, stilled and soothed my mood.
Watching those two was easy—they didn’t do much;
mostly they walked in the garden or merged into one.
So I ignored them, preferring to watch the animals.
Enthralled by the song of wrens in luscious trees,
I missed the one event that changed my lot—
or their lot, really—mine by occupation. Ranks
above me, two cherubim stood guard beside
the garden’s gate—and we—outside! barred
from feasting on the fragrant tree of life, whose scent
was peaches, pears, and apples all in bloom.
II
The humans were always talking about their sin
(which word itself means nothing I understand),
and how an offering of blood covers it.
I took a knife to my own skin one time
and found no fluid there, much less the red
liquid I see when lambs are slain. I’m like
the turnips and squash that Cain offered to God.
(I know because I sliced them when he left,
angry that God refused them, demanded blood.)
I’ll give you blood, I heard Cain think. I observed
him watch Abel’s fluid drain like sap
onto the well-plowed ground; then he planted him.
Was he trying to grow him back, or cover the deed?
Like those from Eden he was banished, but marked for life.
Eve’s Confession
I could tell
the fruit would taste delicious:
its smell
lingered in the perfect breeze
to tease
my hunger, my appetite for sweet
fruit, dripping
of juice. I hesitated a brief
spell like the falling
of a leaf. It was too great—
this promise
to know all things, to be
as God
in full command of all.
That call
seemed louder than his words.
For a moment
I forgot we