something at the seashore a stick
or a lost plastic toy shovel something at the
shore nipping the back of her leg a
bag swinging from her back swishing as
she walks something forgot a snack a carryall something
tapping her heal in uncomfort for a moment
when eyes close the flash image that remains
the unknown a clump in the sand unconscious connecting
cheap rubber plastic sandal while walking
splinters stuck in sand a stick for the umbrella
poking objects just below the surf & her
father pulling a three foot sandshark out
angles in the wake a pull sand over toes
on his fishing line just beyond where we swim
sure she will carry the brown bag & keep the sand out
we swim where we dodge a wave or put up a screen
a scream against the washing away the fading a
way something at the sore sun burnt shoulders toes
always burnt where the sandal slips between the
big toe & that unnamed next toe a space for skin
to peel a grape a juice box a novel something sticking
in the sand a stick or a lost toy shovel made of
yellow plastic where is the missing bucket buried
beneath lurking in the darkness the sand below the water
shed the moist brownie inside just below the surface
keep the sand out collecting in the bag bottom
flushed away washed away torn out a subscription
the hook remained in the spotted shark’s skin a
hermit crab carryall a grape peeled sun burnt skin
the castle that we built washed away the next morning with
the tide carrying bags a snack chairs water wears glass
dull a grape without the skin blushing nipping
fingertips while swimming putting up a screen
invisible line between hook and hand
a juice box a sandal slipping from aloevera
between the toes the ground looks brown behind
glasses dropped in surf scuttle like a crab
white on top pulled reeled like a plastic toy
a stick a shovel a castle made of sand white
underneath cloths shorelines in skin never
on a boat without a life preserver a stick
plastic probably a safety whistle to call
for help an invisible line snagged in surf footprints
one missing a sandal plastic slipping away
half a print overexposed toe red severe sun burnt purple
grape great gatsby on the beach read something
sappy something juicy candy a stick of gum with
a whistle plastic inside that you dropped in the
sand put at the top as a flag foot for the castle
a slip up a tide shift the music of a vendor in
a refrigerated truck novelty dug deep brownie
coloured to protect the eyes reuses the grains
a little cake made with the hands a foundation
glass with edges worn dull pulling the pop
dug deep from the leaking steaming cold
spritz splash the noise of a wave crash lurking refrigerated
juice box a stick with chocolate frozen to it
a drop clumped in the sand snagged the hook sunk
a bucket looks lost without a plastic shovel a toy
a tradition a snapping a roar as the shark breaks free
as the beach renews with tide tables a white shoreline
brownies near the surf near the wake a fading footprint
a scuttle a skirmish running away from a stick, a shovel
or a shark.
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1 comment:
outwardly, this looks like an epic. the length makes it appear as hugely ambitious (considering the posts to this blog are usually no more than a page or two and spread out in an open field). but this one is compact and filled to the gills with words. but the repition in this poem helps make it feel shorter. repeated images keep the topic focused and prevent it from straying off in too many different directions. it tricked me the first time through it. i dont think this poem needs to be quite so long if imagistic unity is what you're going for. there are a lot of strong images linked in unorthodox ways that comprise a coherent sentiment. im afraid its length and wordiness might detract from that paratactic virtue.
sentences, thoughts even, drop off and pick up in mid-stream, which is, linguistically, its strongest point. this strategy demands a longer composition with more time to get your point across through the interplay of unrelated words. be careful though, sometimes in this poem, common words like conjunctions and prepositions are just absent, making the poem sound like a list of nouns and verbs. but not many adjectives, that's good. this poem is filled with things and actions, the stuff of excitement. wait, no, there are plenty of conjunctions and prepositions. the nouns and verbs just overpower them and force the ands, buts, thes, and withs into the background.
you should see if there are more ways that you can manipulate the images, repeating them in different ways, at unexpected times, to multiply the effect of the imagistic jolts. there's a ton of potential here to put together some kind of jenny/beach/ocean/sandcastle collage. a collage, but not a mosaic. your pieces are larger and have more individualistic character to come together and resemble something else. they resemble themselves, and i think you knew that in writing this. the images work well on their own and better with each other, but not in a drastically different way when put together.
do you want to give this poem a backbone--a narrative thread? as it is, narrative is pretty much nonexistent. try taking a look at elizabeth bishop's "the fish" for an example. the poem has no narrative whatsoever outside of lines 1-4 and 75. and yet she jumps around with images from all over the place much like you. apply some kind of rudimentary plot here, pertaining to the beach and jenny not swimming and then branch off into the glorious hailstorm of images and actions. make this poem ABOUT something physical, not just explaining something physical.
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