I knew I had another poem about imaginary place and creatures, so I looked through my files to find this next poem, written in May 2009 as part of Laura Salas' 15 Words weekly challenge. I added part of an illustrated map to enhance it. The map is known as the "Carta Marina," and can be viewed in its unaltered state, here.
The following, from December 2009, was created in response to A Miss Rumphius Effect Monday Poetry Stretch, the topic being "poetic beastiary."
"The echeneis is a small fish that is often found on rocks. It has the ability to slow the passage of ships by clinging to their hulls." Pliny the Elder, Natural History
The rocks are barely
visible beneath the waves,
yet, I know they are there.
I half hope the echeneis will
rise up, make contact, cling
to me, restrain me, stop
me from touching the
edge of the world. Fish,
or no fish, I know what
awaits at the end. Sail
on, sail on. It's too late
now, to turn back.
I used "Sail on, sail on" in both this and the first poem above--you know you're growing stale when you steal from yourself! However, I didn't even remember writing "Echeneis" until browsing my files, which was weeks after I had written "Máel Dúin."
Before going off to hide some eggs, hop on over to Robyn Hood Black's Life on the Deckle Edge for this week's Round-Up.
Poems © Diane Mayr, all rights reserved.
Considering the wealth of mis-information in long ago times, it's really a wonder to me that anyone set sail. Your final poem shows the reluctance, yet he must have felt such a pull that he couldn't stop. I like the enjambment you did, the 'rush'. I'm not sure you really are stealing, but all those wonderful words are locked in your brain, waiting to be released again?ReplyDelete
Okay, but twice is probably enough! Have a great weekend!Delete
You must have a sea muse raging in your head, Diane. All three of these poems carry such ominous mystery between the lines. It's surprising that you forgot about "Echeneis"-- for me, that one is entirely unforgettable-- you capture the trepidation so well.ReplyDelete
Thanks, Michelle. A sea muse, huh...Delete
You have lovely jewels locked away in those file cabinets, Diane - lots of sea faring poems, apparently!ReplyDelete
Who knew? ;-)Delete
Isn't it fun to find poems you don't even remember writing? That happens to me sometimes.ReplyDelete
It happens all the time! Sometimes I have no clue as to what led to my writing them.Delete
I love how you're finding the perfect occasions to debut these poems, written some years ago. I also like how the background completes them, giving them their own artistic identity. What great finds!ReplyDelete
Image editing software has broadened my horizons--in more ways than one.Delete
You're a fine example of how wonderfully formed poems which seem to magically appear spring forth from lots - and lots - of writing! Thanks for sharing treasures old and new. :0)ReplyDelete
I think that's the key, Robyn, write lots and lots. And then lots more.Delete
I love Cartographer's Revenge! Even without the background map (which I love) it calls to mind the ancient maps with sea monsters!ReplyDelete
The illustrations that are part of the maps are amazing. Sometimes there are little angels in the corners!Delete
I love it that you stole from yourself! You're not stale, you're PROLIFIC!!ReplyDelete
If only I had started 10 years earlier! I like your new poetry blog, by the way!Delete
How many poems do you suppose you've written? I think Amy LV also has a bountiful stockpile. Do you have an index of them?ReplyDelete
Ha ha ha! Tabatha, that would assume organizational skills! I've been collecting poems in year-dated computer files since 2009. However, some poems go directly into a digital illustration and get put in a haiga folder. Others go into an email folder since I often write them in an email that I send to myself and put into one of several folders. I have a separate file of WW II poems and my Hurricane of '38 poems (that project has never been completed). So, how many poems? Maybe 1500? More? I also have teensy post-it notes with haiku on them stashed everywhere. I'm a hopeless mess.Delete