Reincarnation (New Poem Published)

Last night on my way to the American Library for Evenings with an Author, I had to stop a minute to admire the Eiffel Tower in the mist. I really loved not being able to see the top; it seemed even more compelling this way, part of it lost in the fog.

Writing is similar for me, in a way. I might start with one clear image, but the rest remains hidden from view. I feel there is something real and concrete within the hazy mist and I just have to find it. There’s an aura of mystery to the process…and frankly I think I better keep it that way. Poke around too much and I’m afraid some of the magic alchemy that happens might disappear.

I have a poem over on The Buffalo Creek Review if you want to take a look. I don’t consider myself a poet, but I don’t question too much the form work takes. The “I” in poetry is particularly interesting to me.

In fiction, the first person is an imagined character, but for the character to come alive on the page I have to fully get under his or her skin. In poetry, the “I” might be assumed to be closer to the “real me.” Often it is. Just as often, not. Heck, even on this blog, the “I” is only part of who I am. These personas, all the facets of our complicated selves.

The poem, “Reincarnation,” did come to me on the train as I describe, though. I was simply sitting there on my 45-minute commute (back when I had a daily commute) and I had this very powerful image of a woman in the Old West. I knew she was both me and not me at the same time.

Why the idea struck me so strongly like that or how I arrived at some strange knowledge that “my slender arms once held men seeking fortunes,” for instance, I’m not sure. Again, that’s the mystery part of it. I just wrote the lines down as line 2 chugged past Montmartre.

I remember the poem being something of an awakening for me, too. It was at a time during my Paris journey where I felt pretty down, almost silenced, and was struggling for ways to find my voice in the cold City of Light. I had stopped writing almost completely by that point. This poem was my re-emergence into the world of words.


28 Responses to “Reincarnation (New Poem Published)”

  1. 1 Mary Lonergan November 17, 2011 at 11:50 pm

    Sion! I LOVE this!! “I opened my mouth today. Earth fell from my tongue.”…so beautiful!


  2. 5 Sab November 18, 2011 at 12:05 am

    I would have left a comment on your piece, which I like, but it wouldn’t let me, so (back) here I am.
    I too like the last line. And whether it’s a poem or not doesn’t really matter in the end, as you say. It’s you, and that’s what counts.


  3. 7 Lindsey November 18, 2011 at 12:54 am

    Absolutely brilliant poem Sion, I was hooked from the first few lines!


  4. 9 Buffy November 18, 2011 at 3:47 am

    The poem is great! Keep writing poems….they really capture what a person feels, and is a good outlet for those feelings. You are a very talented writer. I love the picture…have never seen a pic of the tower in the fog.


  5. 11 Julianna November 18, 2011 at 4:48 am

    Lovely poem… I write too, and like you, I don’t tamper with it when it happens. I love the times when it comes from outside of me, and all I have to do is take dictation … thank you for sharing.


  6. 13 aureliad November 18, 2011 at 9:51 am


    I’m not surprised.


  7. 15 Paris Karin (an alien parisienne) November 18, 2011 at 2:40 pm

    There’s the pic! Yay! It turned out so well. I wished I had taken the time to snap a pic of it, too. So mysterious!

    “This poem was my re-emergence into the world of words.”

    I love knowing this detail about the poem. The lines that were my favorites make a lot of sense in light of this detail: “Is it right, that she has lifted me up? (I have been down). This past woman, lustful and loud.”

    I love the rhythm and the internal near rhyme. TrΓ©s cool.

    I am so happy that you re-emerged into the world of words, Sion. You have been very inspiring for me to tap into my muse. Ummmm, which I should be doing right now, in fact. Heh.

    Hope to see you again soon. πŸ™‚


  8. 17 Franck November 18, 2011 at 8:27 pm

    Nice! As a twin of your past, rails sometimes intersect.
    For me, writing is not a jump into the mist from a clear and solid starting point. I have pictures in my mind and I interconnect. As checkpoints in a rally.


    • 18 paris (im)perfect November 18, 2011 at 10:20 pm

      Thanks, Franck. Oh, writing doesn’t always start from a solid starting point for me. In fact, very little about writing for me is clear and solid. I guess “a picture in my mind” as you say is what often happens for me, too. That’s what I meant when I say I might see an image.


  9. 19 Paris Paul P November 18, 2011 at 11:22 pm

    Great poem and great photo. You truly are a renaissance woman, ma grande!


  10. 21 Sweet Freak November 19, 2011 at 9:09 pm

    WOW. I love the poem, Sion! I love its strength and clarity and its confident origins. Your star is getting brighter by the minute! xo


  11. 23 Franck November 20, 2011 at 8:21 pm

    I think its rythm is its real power (beside the clarity of its pictures). If you’re not a poet nobody does.
    By solid and clear starting point I was meaning I never start to write the beginning first. Strangely.


  12. 25 Wanderlust November 22, 2011 at 7:03 am

    I have been an irregular reader of your blog, but you have just been added to my favourite reads.
    A lovely poem!


  13. 27 Jennyphoria December 2, 2011 at 7:25 pm

    Oh, I love it! Great poem. And I love how the story just came to you. Makes it, perhaps, even richer. Well done.



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paris (im)perfect?

Sion Dayson is paris (im)perfect. Writer, dreamer, I moved to France on – no exaggerating – a romantic whim. As you can imagine, a lot can go wrong (and very right!) with such a (non)plan. These are the (im)perfect stories that result.

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