Firelighted division bells
Round her slender black ankle
I've learned how to stare from
A pink-cornered eye
Proud little flower boats
You buy for a penny
To ship peccadilloes
down the old dirty river
She folds a banana leaf
With long practiced fingers
Then fills them with jasmine
Vermillion and silver
Pulls a mast of red incense
Through the hull like a smokestack
And stares out at me like
I'm Ahab or Blye.
Why not make a big one
And we'll join our phalanges
The sins of our fathers
We'll burn like the dead
Past the banks of the Ganges
And deposit our ashes
In international waters
15 May 05
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soild, strong, i like it all but for ahab and blye ... not sure why, but i don't think they fit in this work.
title is brilliant, as are opening and closing stanzas.
wait. no. all of it's brilliant.
i love it
Wonderful use of language. Really wonderful.
I suppose I might rethink Ahab and Blye as well, perhaps for something a little more generic but full of image.
Ohhh.... I just hink this is wonderful. Very pleased for your success.
your best, ollylama. good poem.
Extremely detailed and captivating. I love this.
I think this works well. The allusions and the irony made me smile and the rhythm is laid back and laconic like a blues song; imagery - well done,
i cast ye to the depths of hell for this
this is so amazing!!!! really excellent work :)
i wish there were still proper pyres.
this is beautiful olly.
I love this.
The title and the poem in perfect balance.
Visual stimulation for me.
a little too pretty for my liking
i could make it uglier if you like
Nice, love the title, a fine touch.
i like the ahab blye bit.
it exagerrates the differencesof the two cultures. his culture usually trying to overcome another.
This is strong. Thank you for the privilege of reading it.
feels like a tree made of tows.