|Jul/Aug 2017 Poetry|
e c l e c t i c a
s p e c i a l f e a t u r e
In an ongoing series, the editors, former contributors, and readers of Eclectica have been invited to write a poem containing four pre-chosen words. The words for this issue are gallery, siren, ribbon, and uniform.
If you would like to participate in the next special poetry assignment, the new words are parallel, tide, knot, and lantern.
(These are excerpts—click on the title to view the whole poem)
The instructors, with uniform grace, reach and balance,
say "once you've found stability on the crown of your head,
gently spin until you achieve weightlessness"
Plucked by an index finger, strings
guide your strokes through a gallery of basalt arches.
Chelsey L. Slattum
Two Word Poems
awkward in the backdrop/
a mute siren dragging the eyes
into a nameless dimension
Barbara De Franceschi
The Truth in Folklore
There is a certain distance across
which many things become
After your last breath
my life unwinds like river's ribbon
Is this how Dorian Gray felt peeking at his portrait?
What happens if I rip my own to ribbons?
Sharon Mathews and David Mathews
Whitman on the Bank of Lethe
Since the warring Ancient Greeks,
armies are resupplied by their fallen—
more important than grave digging.
I Confide in Mrs. Whatsit about My Divorce
Mrs. Whatsit is a friend
to the wind, lets it weave ribbons in her hair, wears
its uniform of majesty and terror like a ruffled nightgown.