| Author | Message | ||
| Laurie Byro
Advanced Member Username: lauriette Post Number: 1146 Registered: 11-2003 |
Portuguese Man of War The island where I found the carvings, sunburst and turtle, may have a path with a gate—so many years, I’d have to stop and think what trip I was on. I recognize the danger, walking on solid earth, A compass and a letter, little more than a promise one man made. Tangerine and cobalt-blue fish know me without fins. Parts of me they want to cut away. I have no need to suckle nor swim, the cave of shy flowers owes me no explanation. A man from our group is rude, remarks at the smallness of my breasts. Women tug at their bikini tops and breathe when conversation turns to war. An upturned boat, child-sized, trails tresses of beautiful danger, meandering lashes of blood. An umbilical, a pink-clot of bloated belly without the squall, this thing is a curiosity to poke. The men are toothy hippopotamuses nosing towards an easy prey. I am Miranda determined to meet a sweet man at the bar. Prospero never warned me that my own kind carries poison in a flask of wine. I watch these tourists reach for this pretty floating creature. I’ve been stung before by a different breed of fish. I take my chances with the one who swims with me early each morning, who grew-up here and knows which lagoons have champagne bubbles and orchids hiding beneath green canopies. We swim a little too close, familiar as Sargasso Islands that nudge and stroke then break away to drift. The Portuguese man of war is far from home, lost in the wrong place. The others will tear it apart or try and save themselves, I am no heroine, this is no play. There is only one pair of arms like his, one night I am exactly this age. The signs by the carvings are all the warnings we need to take a chance, to trace symbols back and forth across each other’s salty skin, to determine which of us is human. | ||
| michael julius sottak
Advanced Member Username: julius Post Number: 1552 Registered: 12-2003 |
a wonderful write, me Lady... could be tightened, but i'm too tired for that worthy labor.... "which of us is human?".... a good question, i just read a book about the "between state" from a study of a person reincarnated many times... get back to me on this... it will blow your mind | ||
| Emusing
Moderator Username: emusing Post Number: 1542 Registered: 08-2003 |
Hi Laurie, I seem to want to take out the first stanza as introductory. I would suggest to begin with "I recognize the danger, walking on solid earth," This will stop anyone on their tracks. Other then that, the only nit from me is "beautiful danger" might be replaced with something less catchy. I loved the men with hippo teeth LOL and the underlying tone of danger. I read you as I would read any great poet--with respect and admiration. E | ||
| LJ Cohen
Moderator Username: ljc Post Number: 2677 Registered: 07-2002 |
Laurie, Ahhh, this is wonderful writing: Prospero never warned me that my own kind carries poison in a flask of wine. I watch these tourists reach for this pretty floating creature. I’ve been stung before by a different breed of fish. Just the blend of mythology and gritty reality that you do so very well. From "An upturned boat. . . " to the end, no nits. The start felt a little disjointed. And that last line---bravo. best, ljc http://ljcbluemuse.blogspot.com/ | ||
| Laurie Byro
Advanced Member Username: lauriette Post Number: 1148 Registered: 11-2003 |
jules thanks glad you are ok emusing, thanks a good suggestion, I shall ponder and lisa thanks much laurie |
