Poems to share from the Pente Poets.
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She
I am the she who rules the night steals myriad stars from earthly sight radiant beacon cold and bright I am the she ... I am the she whose cycle cues a stunning almanac to view wax, wane and lumen birth anew I am the she ... I am the she who glides through trees brings poets and lovers to their knees bold queen of vast celestial seas I am the she ... serene I sail this starry realm my maker's hand upon the helm I am the she ... Judith Bandidt © June, 2012 Hello Pente Poets across the world, and welcome to our first virtual meeting. Here's my poem for comment.
Night Blindness They said it would be like this-- a super moon rising over water, gleaming the horizon as far as the eye could see. But they didn't say it could blind with its brilliance: a hard light, laser sharp, paling the Cross into insignificance. Omnipotent, it draws us-- fence posts, gnomes and tall dark strangers-- to the cutting edge. Here at the precipice we falter—stature lessened. Fears illuminate as monsters lurch from dappled pools and sit like fat toads, waiting. J Bandidt © May, 2012 Hi Pente poets
I'd like some comments on the following styles for the same poem. Which one works best? Blood on the sand soldier crabs emerge scurry for safety dig in—confuse the enemy beyond the beachhead wet sand gleams—shimmers-- collapses into distant haze I dawdle in the sun—scuff tidemarks idly-- battle plans drawn there’s sand between my toes seagulls hover—intelligence drones bold eyes assessing fisherman? forager? interest wanes—wings tilt-- new heading back to base-- glide to safe landing sandhills deploy-- a khaki army marches through occupied territory white tops attack—withdraw engage frenetic action-- foam missiles spray black rocks appear—higher ground command position-- send out a scout—advance concealed oyster shard mine-- a careless step—a sudden hurt-- blood flows as on other sands-- blends with salt water-- is washed away wounded I retreat gulls’ legs skitter before me red as the blood on the sand A poem composed on an early morning beach walk. I was thinking about war poetry, and suddenly the images all around me were military in nature. The soldier crabs sent me down that path. (2012) |
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