Friday, August 5, 2011

Poetry Resurrection: The Immaculate Conceptionally

I’ve recently returned to writing poetry. My goal is to complete a chapbook in the next few weeks or so. I’ve also gone digging in the attic for some of my older work. There was one box up there stuffed with old notebooks, napkins, cereal box tops, and utility bills— all loaded down with my scrawl. This is when I still used pencil, ink, and a Brother typewriter versus the plastic letters of my keyboard. Some of them are unbelievably awful, but there are others that continue to sing. In the next few weeks, I’m thinking I may share some with you. The following small work was written twenty years ago.

The Immaculate Conceptionally

The soft wood,
then a fracture in your dark.
Light footfalls on broken toes;
thickets lean against grassy slivers
of silver moonlit bone.

Soon the thrush
takes flight with the swallow
beneath the gold shelter of skin.
The flurried feathers of thick lashes
thumb and thrust.

Copyright © 1991 Angel Zapata


  1. This is beautiful, Angel. Thanks for sharing! Have fun going through those old pieces and good luck with the chapbook. You are an amazing poet.

  2. This one definitely sings. Twenty years ago, wow! (Not that you're old or anything).
    What a treasure to find our past selves; thanks for sharing Angel.

  3. A fine piece of writing, Angel. How great it is to find some old work. I had a box file of old writing, similar to yours and it got thrown out somewhere along the voyage of our married lives. Including around 18000 words of a novel I was writing. Gutted.....still!

  4. This will sound weird, but its almost sacred to read this. 20 years ago, and you can see mold & form of what your poetry is today. Just lovely. Especially the last two lines.

  5. Thanks, Kathleen. The chapbook is in its final drafts.

    Erin, I'm feeling a bit old after looking at some of the dates in my storage box. The neat thing is I found the very first poems I ever wrote. Hmmm, not sure I should share them... yikes!

    David, terrible to hear your work was lost. I feel your pain. Appreciate you stopping by.

    Jodi, thanks for your sensitivity in reading this work. I can't believe 20 years has passed since I penned this piece. I can honestly recall my thought process in constructing each verse; feels like days ago, not years.