When the water was up around their necks, they turned
away from each other. Sand puckered
up and over the sides of his feet, his
hands stroking the surface of the water
as he bobbed slowly. White foam waves slapped
her cheeks and chin while she reached
tip-toe and started to swim
lazily, further from shore. He stole
sideways glances at her tangled,
wet hair, weaving across the water. Her
legs enjoyed the resistance, barely
running while her arms floated upward,
just breaking the surface tension, sensing his
eyes warming the back of her head
as it slid under. He never moved.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Poem numero Uno
Untitled (for now)
We watched as our Frankenstein’s
Climbed the cliffs by your summer home.
It is a sheer drop down to the ice water
Of Lake Ontario. Last February three men
Died while walking out on the shelf, but your
Monster thought it would be fun, and mine
Always tags along. We laughed
As their stiff, clumsy hands dragged
Knuckle-first through the red clay, searching
For a foothold, or a jutting rock, for leverage.
My Frankenstein chanced a glance up, one eye
Lolling around, trying to find traction, the other
Pouring over the cold sweat on my forehead.
They continued down the rocky face, yours
Missing a step three times, and each time we
Drew in sharp breaths of frigid air and held
Them inside, anxiously attempting
To freeze time. When they landed
At the shoreline, our Frankenstein’s undressed
One another, folding their tattered rags, and placing
Them on Moon-lit rocks, where they would be found
The next afternoon. Even from eighty feet up
I sighed at the sight of my Monster’s scars, train tracks
Running around his left shoulder, the incision
Across his lower abdomen where I planted a pancreas,
The charred stain on his skin just under his right ear
Where electricity caused life to return.
Slowly, our Monster’s began to walk, hand in hand,
Into the dark waters of Lake Ontario, never flinching
From the shock of freezing temperatures, pushing
Ice floes away with their free hands. We watched their skin
Contract, pull the stitches loose from their most recent injuries.
When the water was up around their necks, they turned
Once more to us, and silently
Said goodbye.
We watched as our Frankenstein’s
Climbed the cliffs by your summer home.
It is a sheer drop down to the ice water
Of Lake Ontario. Last February three men
Died while walking out on the shelf, but your
Monster thought it would be fun, and mine
Always tags along. We laughed
As their stiff, clumsy hands dragged
Knuckle-first through the red clay, searching
For a foothold, or a jutting rock, for leverage.
My Frankenstein chanced a glance up, one eye
Lolling around, trying to find traction, the other
Pouring over the cold sweat on my forehead.
They continued down the rocky face, yours
Missing a step three times, and each time we
Drew in sharp breaths of frigid air and held
Them inside, anxiously attempting
To freeze time. When they landed
At the shoreline, our Frankenstein’s undressed
One another, folding their tattered rags, and placing
Them on Moon-lit rocks, where they would be found
The next afternoon. Even from eighty feet up
I sighed at the sight of my Monster’s scars, train tracks
Running around his left shoulder, the incision
Across his lower abdomen where I planted a pancreas,
The charred stain on his skin just under his right ear
Where electricity caused life to return.
Slowly, our Monster’s began to walk, hand in hand,
Into the dark waters of Lake Ontario, never flinching
From the shock of freezing temperatures, pushing
Ice floes away with their free hands. We watched their skin
Contract, pull the stitches loose from their most recent injuries.
When the water was up around their necks, they turned
Once more to us, and silently
Said goodbye.
The Beginning
This is how it's going to work:
I will post the first poem (because I like going first, I HAVE a poem I just wrote and want to share, and well, I started this. I might as well be the first to suffer the consequences!).
Once I have posted, the next person has a MAXIMUM of three days (I feel this is being generous ;)) to post a poem of their own. That persons poem will use the third to last line of the previous persons poem as their prompt and the first line of their poem. Once that person has posted, the next person does the same. Then it's back to me. We'll go in a circular fashion like so.
Since there are three of us, I'll let you two argue about who gets to go next :)
A comment on comments: Use the "comment"s feature under a posting to comment on a specific poem. We all love feedback! Let's feed back to each other! This is how we'll grow as writers, and one day rule the world!
I love you both (well, one more than the other ;))
Maybe one day we'll invite more people in... but for now, let's see how this works!
I will post the first poem (because I like going first, I HAVE a poem I just wrote and want to share, and well, I started this. I might as well be the first to suffer the consequences!).
Once I have posted, the next person has a MAXIMUM of three days (I feel this is being generous ;)) to post a poem of their own. That persons poem will use the third to last line of the previous persons poem as their prompt and the first line of their poem. Once that person has posted, the next person does the same. Then it's back to me. We'll go in a circular fashion like so.
Since there are three of us, I'll let you two argue about who gets to go next :)
A comment on comments: Use the "comment"s feature under a posting to comment on a specific poem. We all love feedback! Let's feed back to each other! This is how we'll grow as writers, and one day rule the world!
I love you both (well, one more than the other ;))
Maybe one day we'll invite more people in... but for now, let's see how this works!
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