Three poems by Aristi Trendel
Bacchante
Look at my fawn skin dress
dolled up in my best
all for him
Liber Pater , the debauchee
look at my ivy headband
demented with lust
for the feast dressed up
frenzied dance
take me in your terracotta arms
carry me aloft
with you faun
my far gone love uphold
let me kiss
your crown of vine leaves
and a toast let me drink
to the couple we’ll never be
Othella
His mind a landscape to see
split, two women adrift
looking up to him
as their lover, unique
sunrise sessions with each
vows of love
till death do them part
death, a tinfoil egg
she brooded on
when life ebbed
and envy bit
passion torn
to tatters
shorn
dusk
dot
Ship Baby
She does not dislike it
this is all she may have
tentative, tentacle-like
a pain for a poem
(or is it the other way round?)
Marianne Moore is weighing
in her bag and another poetess
half-read, repressed
semi-sunny day in Brest
Querelle de Brest
Thalatta Thalatta
what is Querelle doing here ?
he’s from Brest
and I from poetry
imperfect reader, repressed
and the Greeks?
a sea for a sea
Hamlet, too, walking with a book
and she with a notebook
To write or not to write
no, she does not dislike it
semi-sunny day in Brest
citrus sun, jaundiced heart
Querelle
mind out at sea
standed in the rade de Brest
like some ships
ship baby, he texted, love text
read some Marianne
at the Port de Commerce
sea, sun and a poem
that starts with an s
and can stand up to distress
those ancient Greeks found
the way back to the sea
semi-sunny day at sea
(a semi-one too)
ship baby he texted
semi-poem dreamt at the Port de Commerce
sank in the grand rade de Brest
with her heart and the citrus sun
© 2015 Aristi Trendel & GRAAT
Editor-in-Chief Travor Harris trevor.harris@univ-tours.fr
Senior sub-editor: Hélène
Tison
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