There is a not altogether comfortable feel to today’s three poems. But who always wants comfortable? They tap into an intensity experienced at the fall into love, the precarious insecurity that even a lifetime of a loving relationship may not entirely dispel, or the awe inspired by an impressive presence. Alfie Davis personifies love as a heartless master in an ironic twist that would be funny if it weren’t also painful. Alexandra Davis uses the technique of blazoning (employed by poets through the ages) to attach detailed descriptions to parts of her lover’s body; traditionally this enabled a shower of compliments to be bestowed yet here the ending is somewhat disconcerting. Kaaren Whitney’s bold title is continued into this breathless poem where nature is a hostile, masculine force eventually dominated by the hero sweeping in like a gladiator in his own potent masculinity. All three speakers seem slightly fragile in the face of a powerful presence, however peaceful or merciful it may be.
Oh love, you cruel master!
You draw me in on a false impression.
“She loves me, she loves me not.”
Oh, the mind goes mad.
And in the end I suffer
while you gain another follower,
another victim.
by Alfie Davis
Blazon
weather in the head squall in my throat
your mouth has always offered me shelter
and your thigh is a tree trunk in a wood
I can wrap my arms around and hide behind
and your nose is a shape I can make with my finger and thumb
just so it fits as if the missing pieces of me are you
and your eyebrows curve down past the edge
of your eyes that are always sad
they could not look sadder
whatever happens
by Alexandra Davis
MY SAVIOUR
Three hundred ragwort, six hundred dock
and fifteen hundred creeping thistle:
tall, sturdy, strong, their roots claw the clay
resisting the leather cloven hands,
the tawny tight muscles that wrench stems
dexterously from the brick-baked earth
thwarting the primitive urge to spread,
to clothe the land with their self same kind.
My hero, he arrives with surprise, saves my fields
the seven year’s weed from one year’s seed.
by Kaaren Whitney
Calling all lovers of poetry! The Felixstowe Café poets run monthly meetings, every third Thursday of the month, at His Lordship’s Library in the Orwell Hotel. They meet to discuss, read and appreciate all kinds of poetry, from that of published poets as well as their own poetry. At just £2.50 per session, please do come along.They will be at the upcoming Felixstowe Book Festival and look forward to sharing their love of poetry with you there.
Very satisfying poems in different ways. Nothing superficial or trite about them. Truly felt. Where poems need to come from.
Thank you for your lovely comment Ian, we totally agree! 🙂