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On the Veendam
I watch the fragility of waves Collapsing like a spoken cliché Swaying to the rhythm of their own voices Eavesdropping on each other as they swell Rolling faster and louder until they submerge Exhausted like us after love protecting Afterglow moments we can call our own
The waves recede toward the horizon Stretched across the sky like our history Repeating their journey as we do each morning The scent of each other on pillows
The sea is blue today Like me when you leave
Joan Magiet
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Can You See Me
Driving to Grand Case is my St. Marteen ritual On Rue de Hollande I feel the rush building like traffic Up steep roads to Quartier d’Orleans where I will nest Comforted by a beach umbrella at Orient Bay protecting My friendly bag of pens, pads and my bottomless well of words Piling up inside me like cars at a red light
Encouraged by white caps, seagulls, catamarans Batik, beads and bonjour I strip away the layers Of my subconscious until peeled and bare As the bodies of women sunning I place my words on paper Edit, polish, revise for viewing Shape the version of me I will allow public
If I am as naked on paper As men and women strolling Will you accept me I could sooner expose the curve of my breast Than my private thoughts and deeds
I live behind a smile
Joan Magiet Assistant Professor of English, NCC Award recipient, PPA co-founder, first place PPA winner |
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Sonnet [for G.M.]
I stand on the sandy ground at Orient Bay I watch the green Atlantic leave the sky I feel the slap of waves against my thigh the thrum of naked beauty slips away like grains of sand I weathered many years forty-three of them I shared with you I sculpted all my plans in shapes of two like ebbing tide you coaxed me through my fears if tomorrow were the day we had to part I’d ban anger and resentment from my life I’d speak of all the joys of being wife that color the horizon of my heart you are the harbor light that warms my shore if we had less, I would not ask for more
Joan Magiet |
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HE MOVED ON
When my husband was near the end of his life The end of the journey Approaching the end of the Monopoly Board Game of Life His nurses would refer to it as “he may be expiring soon”
I said to him politely Please don’t say it that way Please say when he “moves on”
Ah the male nurse said Yes that is a tender way to put it And I shall refer to it that way from now on
Now that it is all over And he has “moved on” I wonder where he is to go from there… Or shall we say that was the end Of his move!
Sudden Lightning several chapbooks published, ode composer, comedienne, actress |
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Divine Moon
Platinum blonde Silver sliver ruling the nite with a Sterling spoon made of iron made of steel sporting much sex appeal!
Chrome zone, zinc chaste—Copper Mama satin turquoised orange basketball holding flamboyant paisley fuchias with some pensive pinks…
caught in a mix of sea moss, gypsy greens and lava baby royal blues a zesty array of neon spiritual purples that touch the essence of my very soul my very heart
to me you are “divine”
Sudden Lightning
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A STREETCAR NAMED DESIRE
Is it any wonder they named you “Desrie” Running so fast that neither poets nor playwrights namely Tennessee Williams could catch you
Burning the rails with your heat Carrying forbidden passengers yet who hasn’t ridden in your car
and when she lets you off you are dripping “with sweat” of “pink perspiration” Not uncommon to a man with a heavy build!
Leaving many to wish that they had “missed” that car and waited for the next
Desire
is her name and a Streetcar is her “game”…
Sudden Lightning |
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Performance Poets Association® |