On the discovery channel
elephants circle the young and wounded while
the Matriarch attacks the foe.
Felled for one hundred pounds of ivory
her body is left to rot.
Wailing, the herd tries to raise the dead;
she won’t stand.
They put grass in her mouth;
she won’t eat.
Finally they bury her in a shallow grave.
One year later they will find her bones,
fall silent, touch them gently,
and remember.
Justin was eleven when Father
confirmed him in plain view;
the congregation, silent.
At thirteen he took flight.
By nineteen his dovetail
wings flew so close to the sun
they caught fire.
The sky burned two score and seven more.
All that was left
in the end
were wisps of dark gray ash
floating on feathered clouds.
In retrospect
so too did our mother share
a similar flight.
Jimmy twisted on a smile
and took to the rail, riding cheap.
Bourbon washed down
the coal dust in his throat.
He made it all the way to North Carolina
where, till this day, he engineers for Frito Lay.
Last we heard Tina was a deckhand
on a rich man’s yacht.
She sailed across green seas
between rocky shores.
Her post card read; don’t go lookin’ for me
no more.
The one with the permit to sit in daddy’s chair
was Samantha.
She has return tickets
and a jet,
walks without a limp,
never looks over her shoulder.
She lives In a monster house
three doors down.
Travelling hither thither
in my big truck
I hit a wee cub-bear
awhile back.
He tumbled madly into the ditch
and with one leg dragged his damaged body
up the hill
into the dark cool solitude of the trees
to die.
I cried.
On this day I will find his bones,
fall silent, touch them gently,
and remember.
elephants circle the young and wounded while
the Matriarch attacks the foe.
Felled for one hundred pounds of ivory
her body is left to rot.
Wailing, the herd tries to raise the dead;
she won’t stand.
They put grass in her mouth;
she won’t eat.
Finally they bury her in a shallow grave.
One year later they will find her bones,
fall silent, touch them gently,
and remember.
Justin was eleven when Father
confirmed him in plain view;
the congregation, silent.
At thirteen he took flight.
By nineteen his dovetail
wings flew so close to the sun
they caught fire.
The sky burned two score and seven more.
All that was left
in the end
were wisps of dark gray ash
floating on feathered clouds.
In retrospect
so too did our mother share
a similar flight.
Jimmy twisted on a smile
and took to the rail, riding cheap.
Bourbon washed down
the coal dust in his throat.
He made it all the way to North Carolina
where, till this day, he engineers for Frito Lay.
Last we heard Tina was a deckhand
on a rich man’s yacht.
She sailed across green seas
between rocky shores.
Her post card read; don’t go lookin’ for me
no more.
The one with the permit to sit in daddy’s chair
was Samantha.
She has return tickets
and a jet,
walks without a limp,
never looks over her shoulder.
She lives In a monster house
three doors down.
Travelling hither thither
in my big truck
I hit a wee cub-bear
awhile back.
He tumbled madly into the ditch
and with one leg dragged his damaged body
up the hill
into the dark cool solitude of the trees
to die.
I cried.
On this day I will find his bones,
fall silent, touch them gently,
and remember.
Author notes
in response to
http://www.flickr.com/photos/aquarii/3680847646/
'at Alice's room'
'the room is big? or I am small?'
Uploaded by Second Life Resident, Towa Etzel
for interest
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elephant
A contest entry
- To Sing ~ Surrealist Tempos in What Fields of Bright by simone waters.
1300 points, ended September 25, 8 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
critique and suggestions welcome
Comments
1 - 11 of 11
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gold filled and an awesome read .. so heartfelt and stunning the way your words were penned..brilliant !!!
thank you for sharing your awesome words
hugs always Angel♥

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This is such a thoughtful, pensive and heartbreaking piece, for so many different reasons. Congratulations on a well-deserved gold, Poet.




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Quite wonderful. You should take it and frame it somewhere.


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oh thank you so much; i truly enjoyed and was moved by your entry as well *.*
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This poem is a sublime example of surrealist acumen. I would give it superb ratings alone for the subtle, contextual correlation to the image employed.
How the poet juxtaposes the death of a matriarch in the clan of elephant with the telling of a familial storyline is brilliant. The voice is strong, observational and contains such a pathos one cannot but be drawn from stanza to stanza, vignette to vignette, wishing to hear more...
How skillfully the poet uses the motif of grief touching bones, which occurs two times literally, but yet again metaphorically in the telling of the members of a dysfunctional family drifted wayside by childhoods that could not easily resolve the ravages of life's imperfect travails.
One gets the sense through these fine verses that this poet has known far too much for tender eyes - yet within the ashes of recollection, there rises each day a simple courage that manifests as the hot blue flame of some internal beauty which will not be silenced.
The rich, stand alone metaphors, syntax and layering all blend to give this piece a polish that simply shines....
It is brilliant poem, one I am happy to adorn with accolades and praise.
Exquisite...
Thank you for gracing us with this amazing poem!



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Oh Simone, I am humbled by your comments. I am so in awe of your poetry and talent that your close reading of my poem and deeply reflective comments have sent me over the moon and back again. Thank you so much for this wonderful competition. You inspired extremely talented writers and you are a committed, insightful and serious judge. I appreciate this honour very much.
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Tess, your poem is spectacular.I was honored to adorn it with Gold. I'm not really certain my review does it justice. But I want you to know how truly moved I am by what you've created. I look forward to many more such worthy pens from your oceanic talent.
Truly.
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Thisn is simply spectacular! Those thoughts and imagery so perfectly penned. I think It's time I withdrew my entry
This is really sublime
Best wishes with this, but I doubt you'll need it. It's perfect


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this is so sweet of you to say and it made me blush... your poem is so very beautiful, spectacular too, just different. thank you so much.
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unbelievably good poem - simply spectacular, from tip to top. I'd change frito Lay but that's just my peculiarity, it might even help here with specifivity.
really, this is a heart-breaker and inspirtaion all in one, both equally authentic and purely spoken.
fantastic! congratulations on writing this piece. -
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Thank you so much for reading and for the wonderful comments. re: Frito Lay, true story so that is why it's there. thanks again.
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