when black as a miner’s lung, cursed is the night
moonless and moody with a forced sibilant hiss
soundly on her side laid his wife, his day-knight,
just as the stir of a breeze warns of something amiss
moonless and moody with a forced sibilant hiss
it came from the front door, the hero was sure of that
just as the stir of a breeze warns of something amiss
but fear crept to his middle, clogged his respiratory tract
it came from the front door, the hero was sure of that
—hardly making a sound mortals pushed the door open
but fear crept to his middle, clogged his respiratory tract
the door creaked open, their steps on the floor rug frozen
—hardly making a sound mortals pushed the door open
their minds full of evil, they crossed the wide floor
the door creaked open, their steps on the floor rug frozen
hero rolled her to safety: under the bed, far from the door
their minds full of evil, they crossed the wide floor
he reclaimed his lost breath, to soothe his spooked wife
hero rolled her to safety: under the bed, far from the door
why hadn’t the dogs barked, he mused, wielding a pocketknife
he reclaimed his lost breath, to soothe his spooked wife
a whimper, two whimpers, then two deafening barks
why hadn’t the dogs barked, he mused, wielding a pocketknife
who left the front door unlocked, with that let us start
a whimper, two whimpers, then two deafening barks
paws scratched the door frame, bringing relief and laughter
who left the front door unlocked, with that let us start
it’s hard to be a hero and foretell what comes after
paws scratched the door frame, bringing relief and laughter
soundly on her side laid his wife, his day-knight,
it’s hard to be a hero and foretell what comes after
when black as a miner’s lung, cursed is the night.
© selma
Form: Pantoum
((Perhaps I’m his knight, but for sure, he’s my hero.
Perhaps I’m the one who leaves the front door unlocked… perhaps))
+
And seeing as it’s coming close to our 34th anniversary, and my hero
is close to retirement, here’s a repost of an ode to him, begging him
to laze on…
No doubt not the largest in the grasslands
But amplified by the strength of the pride*
A dozen bronze lions go after prey
And more fearless becomes the hunting squad
With iconic bodies that can achieve
500 lbs.—a quarter of a ton!
A human’s height of nine feet—give or take,
Roars that reverberate up to five miles
The apex land predator is, hands down,
The prowler in the scrublands others fear
King whose strength lies in the strength of his pride*
(by and by…)
Laze around, wild beast, in the wild land,
The pride strong, the females strong:
The larger heart, the kindlier hand
Have perfected their hunting skills
Wild one, years show in your robust mane
But your roar is still strong:
It is your kingly agency that
Protects and ensures the pride’s place
In the savanna—wild one, laze on
© selmamartin
*Pride: a group of lions and lionesses is called pride.
Day Twenty-Three on APRIL 23, 2024
Happy twenty-third day of Na/GloPoWrimo, all.
Today’s featured participant is Jo Minns, who brings us a charming
disagreement between an oven and some apples in response to Day 22’s
“two things fighting” prompt.
Our featured resource for the day is a series of poetry films from the
On Being Project,
which also hosts the Poetry Unboundpodcast,
featuring short explorations of a new poem every few days.
And now for our (optional) prompt.
Today, we’d like to challenge you to write a
poem about, or involving, a superhero,
taking your inspiration from these four poems
in which Lucille Clifton addresses Clark Kent/Superman.
Happy writing!
…Thanks for being here with me as I try to work on these first drafts this month.
- This Happened To Me: Thank You, Susi, The Short Of It - November 8, 2024
- Clasp The Hands and Know: A Poem by John Masefield - November 7, 2024
- Wordless Wednesday - November 6, 2024
A lovely poem Selma
So glad you thinks so dear Sadje. Xo
👏🏼👍🏼
Beautiful, Selma. 🌺
TY
Indeed. Great poem. Interesting rhyme & sound.
Thanks, friend. Xo
Welcome,My friend ☺️!
The pride is proud of this piece 🙂
🙇🏽♀️ thanks so much.
Loved this, Selma 🙂 xo
Happy you do, dear D.L. Xo
I’ve returned home to find my front door wide open…it happens to us all. Great write!
Doors wide open… and I do return to check oft.
Don’t know how that happens 🤷🏽♀️
Thanks for reading.
Absolutely beautiful ink Selma 💕
I appreciate the encouragement, Maggie. Xo
My pleasure xo
I love the uses of sense in your beautiful poem.
I so thank you for appreciating, Diana
🥰
Big smile: that pantoum was just the ticket to laughter (and relief!) Blessings to you, Selma.
I’m so pleased to hear this from you,Dora. Pantoums are still very confusing to me. I was going for some kind of happy relief. 😅 bless you.
Ooh that was spooky, Selma! Beautifully chiselled, it read like a gothic fairy tale.