Wednesday, December 29, 2010

Word throw down # 2

Here is the second of my series of word throwdowns for those poetry enthusiasts out there.

Go to the blog of a writer that you like such as Margaret Atwood and choose any one of the latest topics that she blogs about and then work it into a short poem. Here goes...

"huge floating island of discarded plastic in the Pacific Ocean" - Margaret Atwood

Head thrown back,
the moist upper lids
of my blurring eyes widen,
as the water rushes down
in quarter cup gulps.

The popping squeeze
of the thinnest possible
plastic is so punishingly saleable
to the unconscious consumer.

Treadmilled with sweat
I slump in huge breaths
unable to down the last gulp.
My lead heavy forearm
cradles my brow in a swipe
of dripping relief.

The garbage can leers at me
laughing at the meekness
of the blue bin.

5 comments:

rhbee said...

"laughing at the meekness"

shrieking really, at the idea
of it.

Meek, you done inherited baby,

and in your birth lost your worth.

"Head thrown back"

Legs spread for the inevitable

I chance the thought that this is where it has to

lead with nothing left that's even edible.

Jocé said...

Congratulations on your new blog: Write Hearted. I like it.

And thanks for inspiring me to write my first poem for 2011. I took the challenge and checked up on one of my favourite Poetry blogs that I hadn't visited in a long while, that of poet Sage Cohen. I discovered she has a new blog too, "The Path of Possibility" and I think it would appeal to you too, Brandy.

Anyway, I became intrigued by a line in Sage's poem "A Hole In It" -- "something right, we release it" and also her suggestion we chose a word that will be our North Star for 2011. I thought about that a lot and came up with my word, or phrase actually. And in turn that became the title of the poem I've just penned. It is very raw, and will no doubt change tomorrow and again whenever I work on it. But for today it's... okay, sorta. Ha.

I don't know if you wanted us to share the poems too? If so, let me know, I'll copy and paste it here in comments.
Cheers, Jocelyn

Jocé said...

In Medias Res

Fairy-lights reflect off window pane
hover in pairs, red green, red green,
like insect eyes, alien, unseeing

Only the sun is out
hung frozen in the still morning
painting light across a snow dune street

while naked branches reach from blackened trunk
splay limbs fall up and out
a webbed canopy of spaciousness
holding up the sky.

After the blowing snow diminished overnight
in cold blue day only a lazy vapour white
from neighbouring chimney curls

Last night we celebrated year end (too well) and let
December 31st 2010 depart
in a haze of good spirits then

we hailed 01/01/11 a propitious binary,
a numbered fate until...
today began in the same old
way —stuck— in frozen earth Cold

“feels like minus 32˚C” says the forecaster
addressing the fraudulent sun
still shinning bright upon a naked boulevard Elm

lower branches droop
to sweep the rising snowscape
no escape for you, or me, dear tree
but to wait... wait…

wait for spring’s release from this forced dormancy
in deep midwinter betwixt 2010 - 2011
only the calendar moves forward

toward perpetual vicissitude
and the time when change will work its magic
and pull hibiscus blooms
from winter’s wooly toque.

by Jocelyn Boileau

Brandy Lynn said...

I absolutely love this Josie! It's hard not to when you've lived the exact same moments in time and place. I actually poured Robert a small rum and coke and he laughed at the frisky notion of it, but in reality it tossed us into a fit of yawns and doziness that prevented us from even being awake to ring in the new year. Your imagery of the webbed canopy of spaciousness, the haze of good spirits, the fraudulent sun and winters wooly toque are brilliant. So fitting for our city and our winters. Keep following! I can't wait to see more.

rhbee said...

J,

Here's koan for you. How can a poem that starts things in the middle be so zen like from its start?