Tuesday, May 29, 2012

Mer


Hans Christian Anderson's 
The Little Mermaid

Mer

Ancestor or myth? Or are you still there
beneath the waves, the waters
hidden deep within our Mother
hiding from your sisters and brothers

who once hunted and misunderstood
you who move as one with ocean
and creature alike. Who dive and
rise as dolphins and whales do.

Human or creature? Or are you
both? Do we know who we are?
We walk too tall among the others
pretend we are not one of them

those creatures who roam our
earth. Animal we are, but we
misunderstood our place.
You, ethereal, homo aquaticus

beautiful being upon the waves
are what we have dreamed into
legend, then myth, but then
we began to see you again

in books, logs of historical record,
once more we wonder. Are you there?
Shadows beneath the waves
beneath our conscious minds

deep in the sub ocean of our
imaginations you begin to rise.
We begin to understand again,
but can we take it all in

begin this life again from
a new place, as one with all the others?
Or will it drown us? This sea of
knowledge that we are no different

than you or the dolphin or the whale
or the sea lion or the ape washing
in the waters of life who stands
on two legs and wonders…

© 2012 Joanne Elliott

This poem was inspired by Animal Planet's, Mermaids: The Body Found.  It didn't seem for real and was very sensationalized as most cable shows are now, but it did get me thinking. 

The video below is a music video by Raina, the Halifax Mermaid. The song is For the First Time by Drew Rogers.

This poem is for dVerse Poets Pub Open Link Night.


Tuesday, May 15, 2012

Strength


She looks into the mouth of the lion
knows fear, that intimate
fiend that stalks
her night and day.
Fear has become an abusive lover
that promises tomorrow
will be different
but never is.

The lion’s hot breath stirs her senses.
She feels the adrenalin
begin its course through
her small body.
It races to her limbs
feeds them.
This time
she doesn’t turn away.

This time she stares into the hot abyss.
Demands her heart to slow,
to seek another rhythm.
One connected to
heaven and earth.
One that rides time
as the vulture rides thermals
searching for life.

© 2012 Joanne Elliott

This poem is from a writing exercise I did during a weekly poetry salon I hold in my home. A friend did the exercise…we had to choose a tarot card and then write what came to mind.