The night of sunken ships

· by · in constanza, poetry. ·


Deriving death of sunken ships
your lighthouse darkened, stormy seas
eroding shorelines, bending knees

escaping, wallow, bouncing hips
your cotton dress was clinging wet
in tears, in rain and midnight sweat

sashay unburdened honeyed lips
that night we spent before you left
that night before I sunk bereft

your kiss, the poison, talons gripped
my heart, was swallowed by the waves
a cross to mark the sailor’s grave

behind the veils your eyes eclipsed
forgotten surfs a solemn chime
a memory of other times

Deriving death from sunken ships
escaping, wallow, bouncing hips
sashay unburdened honeyed lips
your kiss, a poison, talons gripped
behind the veils, your eyes eclipsed.

Copyright Margret Bednar

Copyright Margret Bednar


Today we are doing prompts with Margret at toads, and it gave me a chance to revisit the constanza, I tried to also make it into an extended metaphor, using the prompt by Susan, I will also link this to Poetry Pantry tomorrow morning.
—
March 21, 2015

42 responses to “The night of sunken ships”

  2. We must drinking from the same tea, smiles ~ Admiring the form, rhyming verses and this part specially:

    your kiss, the poison, talons gripped
    my heart, was swallowed by the waves
    a cross to mark the sailor’s grave

    Your rock the challenge ~

  4. Very nice. I would say you succeeded with the constanza as well as the extended metaphor. I like the rhythm of this.

  6. I love the rhythm of this form and your telling of this tale is done masterfully….I especially love “my heart was swallowed by he waves.” Mine, too, kiddo.

  8. Wow! This is gorgeous, Bjorn. The passionate mood is enhanced by the layers of imagery in the 2nd and 3rd lines. The first lines are so beautiful when all read together.

  12. You had me thinking about the sirens who lured sailors to death, and that is as to the menacing character you gave to the lady in play. Intriguing! I, too, like the rhythm you produced here. Smiles.

  14. This flows like a boat on the waves..we all fall victim to a siren call of some kind..if we didn’t maybe we wouldn’t be human..

  15. should we avoid the sirens then? difficult to decide.
    the flow of the words seems to be like that of waves… leading me onshore..

  17. This reminds me of how much I do love the music of rhyme and meter, even if I seldom use them myself.

  19. I really wanted to write to this picture with that Mona Lisa smile–you definitely exploited the strengths of this form without falling into its weaknesses(the required tetrameter always seems a bit sing-songy to me, but because you chose such fragmentary, sharp visuals, you made it work for you)–all the images very striking and the metaphor well-carried out. I especially liked the fourth and fifth stanzas.

  20. Here come the siren(s)! Sailors should be warned, and yet it happens again and again that they are felled by their own imaes of women …or, on a second reading, who minds drowning in such sensuality? E#xcellent use of form to rock the world.

  29. I am always so impressed when someone can incorporate such a luscious tale into a form so well. You do this magnificently.

  35. Oh, this lovely Bjorn! The story behind this tragedy so romantic still…your extended metaphor in chosen form really works…love ‘ your eyes eclipsed.’

  40. I’m reminded of the saying “loose lips, sink ships” a warning to sailors who do meet all types at those ports of call.
    well sculpted is your verse, Bjorn.

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