An April Poem: Two Parts of Overlap
Apr 24th, 2009 by Capsun
If you’ve been following Quilly’s blog, you know she is doing a Poem a Day in April. I felt inspired – except for the whole problem of me not liking to read or write poetry! So, I needed help and found the answer in my first guest post. It doesn’t cover Hawaii, Tech, or Politics, but it is award-winning.
I present to you the winner of the Ully Hirsch/Robert F. Nettleton Poetry Prizes of the 2009 Fordham Creative Writing Prizes. The winners will be recognized at a ceremony at Lincoln Center later today.
The award-winning poet is Madelyn Biven.
Two Parts of Overlap
I. Boy
I found your heart tied to a peach tree in our back yard.
When I touched its pulse, morning fell into night
and the ground around me burned blue.
We are asleep in a circle of dropping stars,
your circle swarms me like thirst and I need glass
for shattering vowels and spinning black space.
Darkness drips forever, just listen to rain.
You deliver stones to my stomach and I digest
into snow, ash, and red milk. You need to eat white;
eggshells, canvas, sclera, tapioca, nacre, jasmine rice.
You only like melting. I steam wax
and weigh myself in ocean to remember color.
We all love you and you matter like deep blue to me.
Live your peace in spirals and seams.
If there is a spell to undo the world,
children will float and fall asleep in seashells.
Every seed whispers of tiny prodigies.
Sometimes it scares me when you play with smoke
like you have no idea why we breathe.
II. Girl
That winter I ate pomegranates in the shower.
When I cut it in half, my heart burst
brilliant red-violets into my hands.
Water-nectar, I slipped into it,
put the fruit to my mouth like a kiss.
Juice stained my skin and I felt like earth.
The arils rained all over white tile
and after a few days, reds faded
and violet marks on the walls
turned blue heavy.
Now it’s the first day of spring
and we are the world’s balance;
yin yang, sun moon, dry ripe,
Venn diagram.
Yet I am still breathing him
blue in my dreams.
I wake up and depth surrounds me.
It drowns me.
I admit I don’t always “get” poetry, but like with most art, I think the main objective is to prompt the reader and viewer to react somehow. So, react away.
Mahalo!
I’m afraid most of what I write is termed “drivel” by “real” poets. Alas, I don’t care much for what is termed “real” poetry, either. It often doesn’t make a dern bit of sense to anybody but the person who wrote it, and in my opinion, if you have to explain it, you didn’t write it well!
Just don’t tell anybody I said that. Some folks actually think I know what I’m doing.
Thanks for the link!
Capsun..if you have followed my Blog, I think I posted it in ScuttleButt but poetry and I do not agree at all. And April is poetry month, so alas, so many of the blogs I follow are doing that poem a day thing. I despise poetry with a passion. I don’t get it, have a hard time reading it and can’t write it. Oh I’ve tried, but I should stick with nursery rhymes. I’m so counting the days until April is over with. Don’t get me wrong I admire those that can write it…it’s just my end that has the hard time…Oh and Quilly…she can write it…
We have a special day
In April that is today
Quilly is one year older
Now put that in your folder
Quilly: You are a far better poet than I, or many of the people I know. You’ll be our laureate.
Thom: I’m with you on the anti-poetry sentiments. But I’m hoping to expand my horizons by incorporating something beyond my usual comfort zone. Hey, I didn’t write it, I just posted it, with permission of course.