Photograph courtesy of The McGowan.
A novel lesson, part two: an exciting incident.
You may be wondering if you blinked or, shock horror, if my last post was all a dream.
No fear - your comments are saved and much valued.
Breathing Apparatus
Coasting
On shore in the dark -
not night -
two thousand miles
between us; ocean flicks
its tongue.
Pick a shell,
lift it to my ear; it sighs
into me.
And there is sand between my toes.
Tumbling
“Doing quiet somersaults
thinking of you”;
I have run away
with your circus.
Plumbing
He'd never managed to fix your tap
and his car set tongues wagging
but he saved your life
though all you can report is that you saved his.
You knew it was a heart attack
when his plumb line went flat
but your husband wasn't convinced
it was necessary to remove the plumber's
trousers to give him mouth to mouth.
Hey, what happened? I didn't even get a chance to leave my comment. I mean, obviously, it took me a long time to understand your poem (with the use of multiple dictionaries) because you know I am a little slower than most of your readers. In any case, I am happy to see you coming back with words that rise quicker inside me too (and one even made me laugh--I hope it was intended to do so). I am mesmerized by your versification. And now there is a circus on the beach inside my head.
ReplyDeleteAnd the photo is so, so beautiful and really suitable for a poetess! It looks like you are thinking of something of beauty and serenity and I like to imagine what that might be.
Nice to see you there, Rachel!
ReplyDeleteI think I blinked and missed the last post, but I like this poem a lot. Very thought provoking stuff, as usual. Looking forward to more :)
Lori - you are ace! Yes, you may laugh! Enjoy the circus. And thanks - not only for the comment.
ReplyDeleteAndrea, cheers - back at you. Blinking is better than blinkers. Skip as many pages as you want - a stale novel becomes an intriguing mystery that way. Jump around, linear to post-modern. It's your story.
"coasting" set me hovering in that delicious space between the real and the imagined. i love writing that allows you to step inside and walk around, feel the sand between my onw toes. sweet pic at the top!! steven
ReplyDeleteHey Steven, glad to have taken you there. Thanks. I'll give you a call down the next sea shell I pick up.
ReplyDeleteYou look very glamorous in that picture, Rachel. You make me wish I'd been catching the same train.
ReplyDeleteI hope you'll repost that sonnet sometime.
You're such a wag sometimes, Thomas! Thank you.
ReplyDeleteYeah, I'll definitely repost it.
Inside scoop on the photo - it was taken by my daughter's Head teacher!!!(Think he has a soft spot for me - shush!) Alas not a romantic train journey but me waiting to wave my little long legs off to camp. Every building in NZ looks like a rail hut!
Well, that drew me in. Very evocative and at the same time emotionally satisfying. You should be very well satisfied with it yourself.
ReplyDeleteHi Rachel,
ReplyDeleteThat is a splendid photograph of you! I, too, thought you were off on a journey. But come to think of it, every day is a journey of sorts, as we make our way from dawn to dusk.
My mom's shirt - she's an L.L. Bean (iconic American outdoorsy brand out of Maine) devotee and has their striped shirts in multiple colors. She's 83 now and much to my dismay, our walks are becoming fewer and farther between.
Thank you Dave, I'm pleased you enjoyed it.
ReplyDeleteGW, you mum has the figure of a much younger woman! And cool taste in clothes! You're right about the journey. Thank you. I hope you and your mum can find more time to hang out.
Love the ocean flicking her tongue. Loved both poems. I'm a little delayed in my reading and reactions. Life here is strange, strained, but has a lightness of being that is bearable.
ReplyDeleteKass, you're hanging in there and I'm not sure there are many as strong as you in the circumstances. You have a generosity of spirit I am in awe of.
ReplyDeleteOn a side note - your profile pic is gorgoeus.
Thank you for finding the time.
Lovely poems, Rachel. Why don't you contact us about showcasing some of your work on CPR?
ReplyDeleteBarry
www.camrocpressreview.com
Hi Barry,
ReplyDeleteI'll send you some more stuff, then, thanks for asking - it's lovely to be asked for submissions :)
Like it, especially the last stanza.
ReplyDeleteHi Mohamed - it's a change of tone, isn't it, but I'm glad you think it works - thanks :)
ReplyDeleteLove both these poems, Rachel.
ReplyDeleteThat change of tone in the 2nd one is unexpected and turns everything around - interesting. The first is gorgeous though. Thanks for sharing with us.
Thanks, Teresa.
ReplyDeleteHow's the lip curling coming along?
80% of respondants reported a left curl, 10% a right curl, with the remaining 10% being double curlers.
ReplyDeleteNB 'double curling' refers to the act of raising EITHER side independently and DOES NOT apply to lifting BOTH left and right at the same time.
Hahaha! Brilliant research! Erm...what are you going to do with it...going to bob over to your blog now and see what's curling...
ReplyDeleteWonderful poems. I'm glad to read them. But don't run away with the circus. Been there, done that... it was weird.
ReplyDeleteYeah, I well imagine! Cheers.
ReplyDeleteHey, did you notice there were three poems under one title? No one else did....