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Thursday, June 02, 2011

At Ceinws / Watermark

Pot-holes near the gorge, Ceinws,Wales.

 drylung

This is what the world
will look like

when all the water leaves.

Cracked blue tempera in a yellow styrofoam
egg carton.

Our mouths will fill with gravel

and we will learn to speak
in stones.

--Clayton T. Michaels, WATERMARK,
published by qarrtsiluni in collaboration
with Phoenicia Publishing, Montreal.
Winner, 2010 qarrtsiluni chapbook contest.
This year's contest closes June 15.
Judge: Louisa A. Igloria

Sheer abandon: after usefulness, Ceinws.

untitled #19

We never truly fill
the holes--
                we just
learn to live around them,
while the empty
resonates like jade.
Clear and cold.

Strike it right
it almost rings forever.

--Clayton Michaels, WATERMARK


Welsh stoniness, Ceinws.
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7 comments:

  1. Marly Youmans9:14 AM, June 02, 2011

    I'm thinking the left side of that third picture ought to be the top...

    ReplyDelete
  2. Robbi N.10:50 AM, June 02, 2011

    Yes, and that the first picture is a skull, a very large one, buried under the ground, with the eye holes filled with stones.

    ReplyDelete
  3. marly youmans11:21 AM, June 02, 2011

    Makes sense to me!

    And I think I will trying turning that one around when I have a minute more...

    ReplyDelete
  4. Dave3:59 PM, June 02, 2011

    Nice use of Clayton's poems! It might be worth noting that we are currently soliciting submissions to our third poetry chapbook contest, with LuisaIgloria as judge -- deadline June 15.

    ReplyDelete
  5. Marly Youmans4:02 PM, June 02, 2011

    Good idea. Shall add in...

    ReplyDelete
  6. Dave6:57 PM, June 02, 2011

    Oh, thanks! (The first line's link is malformed, though.)

    ReplyDelete
  7. Marly Youmans9:15 PM, June 02, 2011

    Oh, phoo! I was about to run out the door. Shall check it now.

    ReplyDelete

Alas, I must once again remind large numbers of Chinese salesmen and other worldwide peddlers that if they fall into the Gulf of Spam, they will be eaten by roaming Balrogs. The rest of you, lovers of grace, poetry, and horses (nod to Yeats--you do not have to be fond of horses), feel free to leave fascinating missives and curious arguments.

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