Associated Punishments

[Hawkman]

Break, seed, twist beneath the millstone’s roll
and let dry flower pour between
the rills and ridges as would desert sand.
Bite me. Am I grist or grit?
If you break a tooth your fury is my answer -
I would quicken you with lime,
you scurvy nave,
I’d lay you out between the pews
and let the wait of granite
in its timeless quest for meaning
hem your shirt, define your boarders
by the labels on their cells,
just as a monk’s-hood wood
unseen for trees, whose timbre
echoes to the axe’s blow
where winds flail the chaff
confusing missals aimed
as in the dock I stand,
weeding my garden.

[cogs]

this only served to inspire me. the aconite made from monkshood could remedy the nervousness and agitation of the weeds, lol. the confusing missals could be the various curses of the gardener. i looked up many words, since i never use them.
the part i like best:

I’d lay you out between the pews
and let the wait of granite
in its timeless quest for meaning
hem your shirt, define your boarders
by the labels on their cells,
i think the battle between the weeds and gardener is a great contrast to let unfold.

[miyako73]

As usual, Hawk, I like your thoughtful use of words to paint an effective imagery. For some reason I like this line that appears out of the blue like a jolt imposing its presence.

"Bite me. Am I grist or grit?"

[AuntShecky]

I like the sound of this-- those hard consonants ramming into virile (and virulent) verbs. My only confusion is as to whom or what is being addressed--the seed, or weeds, or pesty vermin invading the garden? Nevertheless, there is a strong voice in this one, indeed--I really believe it would rest quite appropriately (though not "nicely") in the poetic genre called "invective."

PS-- do you mean "knave"? Or nave as in a building?

[Delta40]

It sounds so grand Hawk. You standing there, on a spring day in England, bellowing this to the weeds in your garden. I can hardly imagine what the neighbours might have thought! (but I imagined a wonderful scene nevertheless..) Very timeless too.

[Hawkman]

LOL! :D

Well, thank you all for reading and enjoying this little game of word-play and association.

I don't think I'm ready to spill all the beans just yet, though I wonder if anyone pinged the missals/chaff allusion or the crossword flower...

I guess only time will tell ;)

I think the most obscure reference is probably granite. All the local churches in my neck of the woods, at least the medieval ones, have pillars of this stone dividing the various aisles of their naves. (hope this helps, Auntie)

Live and be well - H

[miyako73]

I thought "nave" is related to a grinding wheel. And the poem is partly about grinding grains. I guess my reading comprehension is off.

[Hawkman]

Don't worry, miyako, I've been very tricksy, and more than a little mischievous. ;)

H

[cogs]

maybe it's a jail with an executioner?

[Hawkman]

OK. The key to this poem is in the title. Associated (as in association, in this case word association) and Punishments, the key part being pun, and the way I'm torturing the reader would seem to be appropriated to the word as a whole. (another pun) :D

I begin with an image of a grain between millstones. The dry flower is, of course, a pun on flour but there is also a crossword reference here as 'flower' is often a cryptic clue referring to a river. Rills and ridges can refer to the surface of the millstones as a rill can be a trough or trench or valley but a rill is also a brook or stream. Because the flower is dry it becomes a wadi, so we have a dry river bed - as found in deserts.

Bite me. Am I grist or grit? returns briefly to the milling theme and I've broken a tooth eating wholemeal bread before so maybe I was just getting this out of my system! LOL.

Limestone leads us to quick-lime and scurvey, as limes contain Vit. C which prevents it. Scurvey nave kind of speaks for itself but it's a pun on knave which takes us into a church where there are pews. The granite I've already mentioned in an earlier answer but wait is obviously a pun on wieght. Hem means to pen in, but the association of an edge takes me to shirt, as in hem of your shirt. As an edge is a border the pun here is boarder, and I was thinking boarders have rooms, with labels, either numbers or names. But rooms takes us to cells, which leads us to monks, and wood for would and "can't see the wood for the trees", timbre for timber - Axe's blow - blow for wind which flails chaff, which in this case is the metalic strips used to confuse radar guided missiles (sorry America) which is how we get to missals, which are books. Throwing the book at someone is how one can be described as punishing transgressors, and this one is in the dock - which is also a weed, which is how we come to the garden.

Gardens have flowers and seeds, so the whole has a certain circularity about it, giving the illusion of cohesion, with a couple of minor digressions functioning as links to drive the poem forward.

I hope everyone enjoyed the journey.

Live and be well - H

[Buh4Bee]

Well, I read this poem about twenty times and fell prey to your prank! It just didn't sem to completely make sense. Hope you had fun with this one- LOL! I didn't.

[Hawkman]

Oh dear, poor B4! My wicked wit bemuses - I do apologise. I'll try to be less convoluted with my next offering, should one arise....

Live and be well - H

[Buh4Bee]

Hah! I think was more annoyed than bewildered. And I am sure you'll be around long enough to crank out another one!

Cheers!