Reincarnation
Look for me after I die
I’m coming back as a cello
All the emotions intact
With cool low sawing notes
Heart rising in the throat
Brought to near ecstasy
By the sweet caress of Yo-Yo Ma
Gently drawing the seductive tones
From my spruce and poplar heart
With his pernambuco slow bow
Notes of longing contentment
Disappointment
Haunting darkness and spiccato joy
My next life of pure passion
The giving and receiving of it
Back and forth artistry
Cruel agony hot caustic erotic
The darkness and joy
Rich romantic vibrato
Of me
The cello
Altea
I recall the sound of
dried bougainvillea petals
scuttling down
narrow ancient stone steps
whispering
pink petals bunched
at each crooked turn
Altea held in time
along the Costa Blanca
haunted by ghostly Moors
and feral cats
who roam the harbour
in search of a
tossed off cuttlefish
Altea, rising
in stark whiteness
up up to its
blue and gold heavenly dome
where balconies of primordial tears
flow down on
Mediterranean blue
-- by Doreen LeBlanc
___________
Doreen LeBlanc lives in Massachusetts and spends vacation time at her cabin in Cape Breton, Nova Scotia, where she was born. Inspiration bubbles up out of the river and sea, streams down the mountain, and comes through family stories and the beauty of Cape Breton and her Acadian and Scottish heritage.
Copyright ©2009, by Doreen LeBlanc. All Rights Reserved.
Very well done. You are diffently gifted as a poet.
Hey you, What great memories… the cobblestone roads in such great patterns… you should publish the poem from out hike.. Thanks, my friend
You got the gift of words, as I read I imagine a music soundtrack and a landscape flowing under your resatation as you bring each word to life.
Your poetry is wonderful. The images are very moving. I can feel so much of the poetry with all my senses. I really love your poetry!
I love these poems, too, as evocations and as delicious verbal textures. But I also like the punning moment whereby, if you will forgive me, “Altea” makes me think of the flower called “Althea,” which is the hibiscus (Latin name Hibiscus syriacus) or Rose of Sharon. So doesn’t the Yo-Yo Ma poem, with its loving emotions, regale a bit like — not exactly but somewhat like — the beloved’s celebration of her lover’s attentions in the Song of Solomon (King James Version), Chapter 2, beginning “I am the Rose of Sharon, and the lily of the valleys”? It’s a stretch perhaps, but one the poems as a coupling may invite. And they delight in the same way that this Biblical interlude delights, for me at least.
First let me thank you for being the first unknown-to-me commenter on my work at spinozablue. I so appreciate it! And I love the connection you made to the Song of Solomon — I love its joyous robustness.
Doreen
Muchas gracias.
Doreen — Your poem about the cello … I can so go there! Thank you.
Inspiring works, Do. You’ve captured Altea beautifully. Keep writing — you have such a gift…I’m still hoping for your book of collected works. You go girl!
April 11, 2009
Doreen LeBlanc’s poems: garlands of lovely words woven with distinction. “Well worth a read,” pronounced
Robert Mueller, as we made our way to Columbia’s Grad School of Arts and Sciences reunion, where, at Havemeyer Hall we heard all about Godzilla and the Cold War; Darfur, now; Codex Hammurabi inscribed in basalt; and the symphonic illuminations of Haydn.
But, at coffee and cookies, what did we do?
We spoke again of eclectic Spinozablue!
I love it! You are my favorite Columbia Grad School Grad!