Bas Relief
By Sherrie Gonzales-Kolb
Sweltering July heat,
foul moods, and the cats
are lazy.
Your presence here adds
to the discomfort.
Nothing that a good
downpour
wouldn't help.
Watermelon summers,
being barefoot at the lake,
and picnics with laughing
children are sepia
memories,
disappearing like sweat
beads
from a strong gust of wind.
The pages of this book grunt
apathetically,
and the stillness of time
is stifling.
Where is God? and
why won't you leave
me alone?
In that very moment
when I find silence,
a horse fly buzzes by,
suicidally,
and I instinctually grab
my book and
SWAT! it.
The analogy works well,
and, at last,
I smile.
@ Mike -- your poem reminded me of one I wrote a few months ago...hope it's okay that I posted mine in close succession to yours.
ReplyDeleteNo, not at all. Your fly is dead so, there is no competition with mine. Actually I like yours. I had to re-read it to determine whether it was the fly that was "bugging" you from the beginning or not. And of course I see that it was not the fly.
ReplyDeleteThis is not meant in an arrogant way, but this time the interpretation of "my fly" does matter and I am curious to hear your view.
There are lines that I wish I had written. One that comes to mind first is Ingrid Michaelson's opening lines from The Chain:
ReplyDeleteThe sky looks pissed
The wind talks back
I'd now add to my list the opening of this poem - Sweltering (July) heat, foul moods, and the cats are lazy. I put July in ( ) because when I read this aloud, I like the rhythm better without July. I like this poem very much - right up until the fly buzzes in. It feels to me like a very easy ending to what felt like a serious poem - almost as if by swatting the fly, you leave the feeling/message of the poem behind...which may be exactly what you intended to do. Discuss?
Thanks, Angie...yes, I have not been comfortable with the ending; it's too easy, too obvious. I was definitely in a mood that day...poor Ben...you know how we artists tend to be.
ReplyDeleteI do go over my poetry time and time again...not afraid to edit, or to scrap....like our mutual internet "fly on the wall". Ugh.
I usually write very quickly, and then set it aside (meaning, I forget it). My editing usually happens months, even years later. One point that I have disagreed with some PH'ers about is the usefulness of sharing your work with other poets that you respect and getting their input. I find it invaluable. It pushes me to be better, to think more deeply about what exactly I want to say within a poem. Or verse. Or prose. You pick the correct term...personally fighting over that makes me tired.
ReplyDelete