Secret Inconclusive Wood + Entrance into Wood

This image is part of my Melancholy Forests series.

Secret Inconclusive Wood by B.Held

from "Entrance into Wood" by Pablo Neruda

I fall into shadow, the midst
of things broken down,
I look at spiders, and graze on forests
of secret inconclusive wood,
I pass along damp uprooted fibers
to the live heart of matter and silence.

Tossing So As to Scare + The Sound of Trees

This image is part of my Melancholy Forests series.

Tossing So As to Scare by B.Held

"The Sound of Trees" by Robert Frost

I wonder about the trees.
Why do we wish to bear
Forever the noise of these
More than another noise
So close to our dwelling place?
We suffer them by the day
Till we lose all measure of pace,
And fixity in our joys,
And acquire a listening air.
They are that that talks of going
But never gets away;
And that talks no less for knowing,
As it grows wiser and older,
That now it means to stay.
My feet tug at the floor
And my head sways to my shoulder
Sometimes when I watch trees sway,
From the window or the door.
I shall set forth for somewhere,
I shall make the reckless choice
Some day when they are in voice
And tossing so as to scare
The white clouds over them on.
I shall have less to say,
But I shall be gone.

The Fierce Evil of the Serpent Spirit + Spirits of the Dead

This image is part of my Melancholy Forests series.

The Fierce Evil of the Serpent Spirit by B.Held

from "Spirits of the Dead" by Edgar Allen Poe

Be silent in that solitude,
Which is not loneliness—for then
The spirits of the dead who stood
In life before thee are again
In death around thee—and their will
Shall overshadow thee: be still.

Clattered Trees—Silently Weeping + Night Winds

This image is part of my Melancholy Forests series.

Clattered Trees—Silently Weeping by B.Held

"Night Winds" by Adelaide Crapsey

The old
Old winds that blew
When chaos was, what do
They tell the clattered trees that I
should weep?

Trembling Shadows of a Dark World + In the Dark World

It still gives me chills.

This image is part of my Melancholy Forests series.

Trembling Shadows of a Dark World by B.Held

from "In the Dark World" by Haniel Long

The swaying, the trembling,
the branches interlocking—
these are but shadows, only you and I,
before we were born,
after we die.

Icicle Melting—Darkly + Angus McGregor

This icicle reminds of the icicle that Angus McGregor “gripped in his hand.”

Icicle Melting—Darkly by B.Held

"Angus McGregor" by Lew Sarett

Angus McGregor lies brittle as ice,
With snow tucked up to his jaws,
Somewhere tonight where the hemlocks moan
And crack in the wind like straws.

Angus went cruising the woods last month,
With a blanket-roll on his back,
And never an ax, a dirk, a gun,
Or a compass in his pack.

“The hills at thirty below have teeth;
McGregor,” I said, “you’re daft
To tackle the woods like a simple child.”
But he looked at me and laughed.

He flashed his teeth in a grin and said:
“The earth is an open book;
I’ve followed the woods for forty years,
I know each cranny and crook.

I’ve battled her weather, her winds, her brutes,
I’ve stood with them toe to toe;
I can beat them back with my naked fist
And answer them blow for blow.”

Angus McGregor sleeps under the stars,
With an icicle gripped in his hand,
Somewhere tonight where the grim-lipped peaks
Brood on a haggard land.

Oh, the face of the moon is dark tonight,
And dark the gaunt wind’s sigh;
And the hollow laughter troubles me
In the wild wolves’ cry.

Hiding Place + Icicle

I have a hiding place when spring marches in. . . .

Hiding Place by B.Held

from "Icicle" by Tori Amos

Icicle, Icicle
Where are you going
I have a hiding place when spring marches in
Will you keep watch for me
I hear them calling
Gonna lay down
Gonna lay down

Unfold + I Am Much Too Alone in This World, Yet Not Alone

Doesn't everyone want to unfold?

Unfold by B.Held

from "I Am Much Too Alone in This World, Yet Not Alone" by Rainer Maria Rilke

I want to mirror your image to its fullest perfection,
never be blind or too old
to uphold your weighty wavering reflection.
I want to unfold.

Glitter Meets Pele + Howl

In the machinery of night. . . .

Glitter Meets Pele by B.Held

from "Howl" by Allen Ginsberg

angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient
heavenly connection to the starry
dynamo in the machinery of night

The Dead Land + The Waste Land

Memory and desire are stirring viciously.

This image is part of my Melancholy Forests series.

The Dead Land by B.Held

from "The Waste Land" by T.S. Eliot

April is the cruelest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.