Friday, 9 September 2022

Five Poems by Emily Bilman

 



The Lightkeeper

 

The hologram-token I hold in my hands

now brightens the carved stone-

tower and its arcades, now reveals

the stone-tower’s interior – the iron-

 

wrought handrail, the keepers’ quarters,

the turned-on radio, the Zephyr’s veering

force on the cloud-bound Atlantic. Further up,

the keeper adjusts the crystal-clean rotator

 

diffusing a diffracted light on the rippling

coves and the scattered rocks below.

Upon a steep slope, I had, once, been

subtly forewarned of the lightkeeper’s

Tenebrae and the abyssal trenches below.

 

And of a sailor floating upon a coffin-plank.

 

 

Hubris

 

Like a sea-sentinel, she refused

to abandon her self-assigned field.

From their love-dinghy they dumped

their pride and its deceitful tributaries

 

to the Aegean. On the receding gate

he said pride was all they possessed.

Her passive pride kept her confined

but still attached to him and to the distance

 

of her loved ones. They travelled through

the undertow and on highways lit at dawn

and moved countries and were bound

 

to be severed through water, land,

and vennel enigmas – that cryptic

entanglement of river-rhizomes.

 

 

Synchronicity

 

Like a magnet, I set out to tame

the Atlantic with a goal. On the cruise

I let myself go to the ocean’s

wide undulations, synchronous

 

with the moon’s wan attraction.

On the dolphin-watch, the guide

started throwing out chunks

of chicken breasts to hook-beaked

 

petrels and frigates out of a tin box

with his arm spanning the open sky.

The hysteria of the poultry-fling hid

 

all the dolphins from our sight.

After the swim, the sirocco tainted

our eyeglasses with red dust.

 

The served picnic remained untouched.

 

 

   The Body-Dam

                   

 One

 

        blood flows

       into our body

           all along

        rivulet-veins

 

  the body-dam limns

      the psyche-waters

          of the flesh

 

              corrals

      our inner moods

 

          avoids the floods

           in the heart’s

 interlocked

 chambers

 

      for our departure

 

                 Two

 

    in the cool of the night

            we polished

       our marble floors

  streaming

     down

     the sacrificial waters

         of our imminent

 departure

 

                Three

 

       in the scorched heat

 of two summers    we cleaned

 

             the gaps

 between

      the stunned bricks

 

          of our books

          and departed

 

 

Challenger

 

The engine dives yet deeper

Into Orpheus’ dark subterranean

Trenches along volcanic vents

That spurt out obsidian gas-fumes

Where bacteria swarms thrive like

Colonies of bees within a wild prairie.

 

In these ice-waters, all sea-creatures

Are liquified but, on a layer above,

Lantern-fish gleam to prey, mate,

And maintain the primaeval breath

Of silence buried in tenebrous

Shadows before matter began

 

To aggregate and darkness

Was gradually abraded by light.  

 

Emily Bilman, PhD is London’s Poetry Society Stanza representative in Geneva, CH. Her thesis, The Psychodynamics of Poetry: Poetic Virtuality and Oedipal Sublimation in the Poetry of T.S. Eliot and Paul Valéry, was published by Lambert Academic in 2010 and Modern Ekphrasis in 2013 by Peter Lang. Her poetry books, A Woman By A Well (2015), Resilience (2015), The Threshold of Broken Waters (2018), and Apperception (2020) were published by Matador, UK. Poems were published in The London Magazine, San Antonio Review, Wisconsin Review, Expanded Field, Poetics Research, The Blue Nib, Tipton Poetry Journal,  North of Oxford Journal, Otherwise Engaged Magazine, Literary Heist, The High Window, and Wild Court, Remington Review, Book of Matches, etc.  http://www.emiliebilman.wix.com/emily-bilman 


No comments:

Post a Comment

Three Poems by John Patrick Robbins

  You're Just Old So you cling to anything that doesn't remind you of the truth of a chapter's close or setting sun. The comfort...