Surprised By The Battleground

This is an old poem that went missing. I knew I had it somewhere on an external drive, but that had gone missing too. I had forgotten the title and yesterday, I pored through the tags for this blog in an effort to find it, but to no avail.  Today, however, I discovered the usb thingy in my kitty-cat pencil case that sits to the left of me all the time. *smacks head with heel of hand

It’s not that it’s a great poem, but I like it just the same. I wrote it after reading the book, “The Drowned World” by J.G. Ballard. That was a bit of a triumph for me, since I’m not a reader of fantastic stuff, but I persisted and ending up really liking the book.

Don’t ask me what this poem means, I haven’t got a clue.

(A recording of the poem will follow as soon as I get my office relocated – very soon.)

 

Surprised By The Battleground.

We were comrades when the ship
went down;
our spirits scattered to the winds
like soaring gulls.
You wore a shocking white suit
and I, a red silk dress,
as we danced to marimba
in the midst of horrors.

We heard the buzz-buzz of the
giant bee,
as it made its line towards the
hardened ground;
our bodies blasted to the winds
like dirty gulls—
your white suit, smeared with
coffee-stains,
my red-silk dress blown up
over my head.

And we never saw it coming—
though we held the divination sticks
in our shaking hands.

Kathleen Mortensen©2010

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A Poem (Be gentle, I’m just waking up.)



SETTLEMENT

As the new house settles in to its surround,
Creaks and groans—clicks and knocks,
So too, my bones are unwound
After the long haul.
New time runs away from me
With each clock’s tick.
Cats lick and settle in
Sock boxes, on sofa backs.

We weather the storms
From inside;
The mud-slides are on their way.
The backyard is a battleground,
Entrenched.

Kat Mortensen©2011

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Monday Poem #3a

Surprised By The Battleground

 

We were comrades when the ship

went down;

Our spirits scattered to the winds

like soaring gulls;

You wore a shocking white suit

and I, a red silk dress

And we danced to marimba

in the midst of horrors.

 

We heard the buzz-buzz of the

giant bee

As it made its line towards the

hardened ground;

Our bodies blasted to the winds

like dirty gulls;

Your white suit, smeared with

coffee-stains;

My red-silk dress blown up

over my head.

 

And we never saw it coming—

Though we held the divination sticks

in our shaking hands.

Kat Mortensen©2010 
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