Jaya Savige

Explore Poets GO!
Popularity
Popular Poems
1.
Magnifera
Ripeness was a semitone below
the bone clef of the elbow

keying the rain-slicked
cyclone fence: the firm, saclike rind

of a warped minim, golden
drupe note for which we longed.

Stone fruit are fine tutors.
This one unseals a sensual nose hit.

At dusk they go lambent
like chunks of bent gloam.

Sucked, their fibrous pith
is birth-pouf — 

punk oblong pits
belonging in a goblin's pot,

infused with rich static
and the fresh electric scratchiti

of summer lightning. It's fortune
gave us this softer unit,

surely. Edgewise the frangipani
made a rain-gap fin

for heads rife with fire
in the shade of the mango belt.
...
2.
Carousel
Dense night is a needs thing.

You were lured
in a luminous canoe
said to have once ruled
a lunar ocean.

The 2 am soda pour
of stars is all but silent;
only listen — 

sedater than a sauropod
in the bone epics
it spills all the moon spice,

releasing a sap odour
that laces
us to a vaster scale
of road opus.

A carousel of oral cues,
these spinning sonic coins.

A slide show of old wishes.
...
3.
THE MASTER OF SMALL VIOLENCE
He wakes at ten, opens up a can of tinned peaches
and hacks at the succulent halves with a fork taken
from the dish-rack, the only clean utensil left
after a week of neglecting the washing up.
Pushing past split fly-screens in tatters after
making the mistake of feeding next-door's cat,
he flicks some of the syrup at a largish ant crawling
along a frond and four varieties of flies swarm
in like a squadron heeding the sticky reveille.
Some of the syrup hits a spun leaf so that
a spider worries for its sack, stumbles forth,
forelegs raised to attack the assailant, mimicker
of the elements, which it is unable to locate, aimless
in defence. He finds himself inspired each time
a Christmas beetle's wings close incorrectly.
The cat bears gifts: chewed cockroaches beckon
from its jaws. After lunch, ants scamper over crumbs,
march toward a crack, drown, fall off the stainless
splashback. Now the sun's warm paws reach in
through the kitchen window, toying with each web
as at a fraying hem. The sink fills with this predatory
warmth: it is the day drowns them, he is blameless.
...
4.
HOSSEGOR
Surfing probably didn't occur to the Vikings
but then you never know - maybe one of Asgeir's men
found himself oaring his chieftain's faering

for this Biscay shore, just as a set wave jacked -
the kind that narrows the eyes of the guns
who yearly light up the Quicksilver Pro

(Slater, Fanning, Medina, Florence, Parko) -
and intuiting to lean down the face of the monster
felt it take, the shove as the hull slotted flush

into the vein of the sea god, frisson pitching through
the crew like the shudder of a brained seal
as they fluked the drop on an outside bomb.

You can almost see them now, rolling in from
out the back like hoons on a banana boat,
on course to plow through locals. A nerf howls

to a thud; a kitesurfer eats it. And there must
have been some among the numberless wrecked
who happened to cling to jetsam felicitously warped -

the waterlogged panel of a walnut armoire, say -
as to hitch them a lift in the home stretch
of this crumbling A-frame's deep Atlantic fetch.

Perhaps one of them even cottoned on
that after breathing, the art lies in the reading
of the break, getting to grips with tide-shift

and how the wind's caprice vexes the takeoff,
the fickle line-up - but who among them
could have envisaged a Tahitian king, carving?

The guns will return, who are now braving
the skull-crushing torque of Teahupo'o.
...
5.
MAGNIFERA
Ripeness was a semitone below
the bone clef of the elbow

keying the rain-slicked
cyclone fence: the firm, saclike rind

of a warped minim, golden
drupe note for which we longed.

Stone fruit are fine tutors.
This one unseals a sensual nose hit.

At dusk they go lambent
like chunks of bent gloam.

Sucked, their fibrous pith
is birth-pouf — 

punk oblong pits
belonging in a goblin's pot,

infused with rich static
and the fresh electric scratchiti

of summer lightning. It's fortune
gave us this softer unit,

surely. Edgewise the frangipani
made a rain-gap fin

for heads rife with fire
in the shade of the mango belt.
...

Comments

Delivering Poems Around The World

Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...

5/12/2021 4:12:55 PM # 1.0.0.578