Poems from Huahine: 2011

*These Old Bones

February 23, 2011

LLyn De Danaan

With these old bones I cast a shallow net.

I draw no fishes in with my desire.

Yet there were some I caught with perfect set

whose sleek and lissome flesh I would devour.

Let fish be fish and piddle on their way

Let old bones drift and spin another day

Let shadows of regret all drift away.

I saw a mermaid once upon the sea

I drew my barque up near beside her perch

We laughed and danced together on the lee

A false protection for our hours of mirth

My heart strode nimbly through her flowing hair

It galloped gladly far into her lair

I cantered on until I was ensnared.

But wanton play must end with grudging grin

A lapse, harsh word, or sepulchral neglect

A quick and loose regard for skin on skin

Transmorgrified relation: disrespect

So these old bones are happy with canned fish

A dab of mayonnaise satisfies each wish

A caper here and there makes a fine dish.

*Based on and Inspired by a Study of Theodore Roethke’s I Knew a Woman

Under a Venus Sky*

by LLyn De Danaan

I remember her insistent silence

in the rooster dawn

bent with intention against distracting winds,

over vexing words of long dead men.

Her hair, grey as sand, chased random pathways

through the texts, framed her melting cheeks

and still divining brows.

The definition of her life,

a solitary vision–

wild, like her roily hair,

unexpected figures, faces, limbs

appeared on canvas–

called out for recognition

begging to be tamed.

She cast herself to task,

stirred a spell,

and nudged life for them.

*Venus: love, beauty, devotion. Based on and Inspired by a Study of Theodore Elegy for Jane

HUAHINE SENRYU

Palms Would Rather Sleep-in

five thirty, rooster

someone shuffling over tea…

wakened, fronds wrangle

Ant Thief

This morning I counted:

Seconds to my balcony

Into cereal bowl

Tsing Tsing’s Father

Waiting three days now

With hungry cows and copra

The boat not here yet

Morning February 16 Huahine

Rain blurred mountain

White terns on rice paper wings

Faré morning market

Ambushed

Ambushed by storm

So much ocean around me…

even rain is salty

Near Maroe Bay

Challenged by legs,

crossing road is pure terror…

crab on upland journey

Rehearsal

Bird, too, joins the song

Happy to see the gathering….

Bouquet of children

On that Dark Day*

LLyn De Danaan

On that dark day I rose and went to sea,

I followed clouds reflected on the bay

A clutch of ducks and plovers led the way

through darkling drifts of seeweed and downed trees

A pair of buffleheads and then a gull

lay close beside as we approached the shoal.

Beguiled by hidden dangers I oared on

I begged my entourage to stay with me

But spiney shapes and shadows made them flee

Yet deeper, ever deeper, I was drawn.

The tufted grasses seemed like sentries now

And dragonflies played tricks across my bow

On that dark day I ventured out once more

I’d left the house before a hint of light

I’d been awake and frightened in the night

With tingling sweats and doubts I’d had before.

To hear despair come calling out one’s name

In early hours is something to disclaim.

And so I slammed the door and went to sea

All hope and frantic faith I left behind

I steered a happy course of my design

I had no want, just willing to be free

to search elusive byways where they lead

and paddle to the source of every stream

* Based on and Inspired by Study In a Dark Time by Theodore Roethke

Fête Social Total*

On being evacuated to a mountain in Huahine during a Tsunami warning

March 11, 2011

Like honey, dusk and dawn,

ambiguities

draw us together

on this mountain side.

A lump of food is proffered

in communitas,

between disaster

and a blessed grace.

We almost party

in this sacred place

where difference means

nothing in the dark.

Prestations from the

beds of pick-up trucks;

sweet presentations

beyond all need for meaning

Holy heirophantic,

women speak in tongues,

hold forth, prophesy:

subvert our will

A man impersonates

a spirit warrior,

asks if we believe

in someone’s God

Fragments and whisps:

grandmothers’ tales

vaguely recalled

while dogs lie quietly by

*Fait Social Total: after Durkheim…an activity that has implications for the whole society…and through which the whole society can be understood.

Crow Bright Day

Crow bright day:

no leaf untouched.

Tiny drops of sun

tickle every slit tongued

and bellied creature.

The Hibiscus*

LLyn De Danaan

When I snapped her off a bush that day,

in the lane behind my house,

she was bright, dark red, and daring:

a slim hipped salsa dancer, sensuous and winking.

I stuffed her green, slender stem into my hat band.

I sported her around town

though it was a hot summer day.

I displayed her to friends:

Believed she gave me style,

gave me dash and such.

At the time: She’d lived too long, I thought, on that bush in the lane

exposed to mo-ped fumes and ganja smoke

and roosters crowing half the night,

watching other blooms

fade, shrivel, and decay.

After our morning tête-à-tête

and saunter through the town,

I took her home and she

was spent.

Parts of her were wilted, brown.

Her drooping petals drifted

to polished tile floor.

I was the dumb dame who killed her.

Where could I turn myself in? I wondered.

Was I seen in the act?

I stuck her in a glass of water,

spoke to her, entreated.

But in the end, I tossed her out the door.

That my vanity was murderous hadn’t occurred to me before.

*Based on and inspired by a study of Theodore Roethke’s Roethke The Geranium

Degrees of Light in Huahine*

Llyn De Danaan

You might come here someday on a whim.

Say your life broke down. Your passion’s gone.

Your life’s a mess. You walk the streets

of Faré past the mangos and lagoon fish

dodging scooters and old men

and groups of pale tourists from the cruise ship

Paul Gauguin. You avert

Jehovah’s Witness and the stone fish in the

sea.

Your favorite occupation is in finding shells

and gazing at their swirls,

evidence of lives unfolding,

and wondering if your own can be reclaimed.

All feelings pour onto a page

where color, form, and light can still be

found. Or made. And as you paint and ply your

craft the memories of love resolve

into a glaze, a sparkling coat that

will protect this day.

Is this your life you wonder in an empty house

with calls unanswered and he

doesn’t come?

Is this your life you wonder as you

glide over submerged, encrusted reefs, grey as you are

and celebrate the dappled fish that rise above them.

You long to be as beautiful as they.

  • Based on and inspired by a study of Degrees of Grey in Phillipsburg

by Richard Hugo

Meditation on Meeting Nudes on the Beach*

LLyn De Danaan

Deluded is the wench who thinks

It’s fine to strut all in the pink

With breasts exposed and cheeks unrobed

Indeed, without a stitch of clothes.

The horror of the wrinkled thigh

It’s ravaged aspect meets the eye

Though I would quickly look away

I cannot keep my thoughts at bay.

Oh seemly skin that now hangs loose

and sports a road map of abuse

I cherish all the crease and crags

I celebrate the folds and sags

You’ve sweated passions in wild nights

Endured my heated change of life

But I won’t put you on display

My dear, be real, you’ve had your day.

*Based on and inspired by a study of Epidermal Macabre by Theodore Roethke

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