Two Feet Poems for Summer Solstice

Two Feet Poems for Summer Solstice

Walking down the corridor, I stop when asked to
demonstrate how I can stand en pointe: a shadow

friend is mystified. The flat tips of my toes are so
strengthened that they can hold me balanced for

as long as I choose an elongated Hobbit's foot,
a snail's trail. My body then extends in height till

head touches ceiling. Spotting you up the hall, I
grin at seeing I am much taller than you are now.

*

Upstairs in the barn, I'm teaching my three friends
a Sufi circle dance with intricate steps. One woman,
a dancer, wants to trace the sacred pattern before I go.

She copies my every move, and sketches each step in
charcoal. The black and white shaded drawing swirls.

A dervish's skirt appears on the page, alive, and we are
transported to Turkish zikhr. Sunshine filters through
cracks in Ontario barn boards, creating shafts of light.

We sound out the dance until resonance fills the space.
Vowels of praise ricochet harmonics of Solstice stretch.

about us ::: guidelines ::: contact ::: order ::: chapbooks ::: Monday's Poem ::: Monday's Archive


about us ::: guidelines ::: contact ::: order ::: chapbooks ::: Monday's Poem ::: Monday's Archive
Monday's Poem
		© 2011 Penn Kemp London Ontario activist poet, performer and playwright Penn Kemp has published twenty-five books of poetry and drama, had six plays and ten CDs of Sound Operas produced as well as several award-winning videopoems. As London's inaugural Poet Laureate, she initiated and judged Poetry in Motion, www.heartlondon.ca, and National Haiku Competition, www.homecounty.ca. As Writer-in-Residence for University of Western Ontario for 2009-10, her project was the DVD Luminous Entrance: a Sound Opera for Climate Change Action, (Pendas Productions). She hosts an eclectic literary show, Gathering Voices, archived on CHRWradio.com/talk/gatheringvoices. See http://mytown.ca/pennletters/ http://www.poetrymap.ca/profile.php?PoetID=42. Photo: Mark Haddock
Two Feet Poems for Summer Solstice Walking down the corridor, I stop when asked to demonstrate how I can stand en pointe: a shadow friend is mystified. The flat tips of my toes are so strengthened that they can hold me balanced for as long as I choose an elongated Hobbit's foot, a snail's trail. My body then extends in height till head touches ceiling. Spotting you up the hall, I grin at seeing I am much taller than you are now. * Upstairs in the barn, I'm teaching my three friends a Sufi circle dance with intricate steps. One woman, a dancer, wants to trace the sacred pattern before I go. She copies my every move, and sketches each step in charcoal. The black and white shaded drawing swirls. A dervish's skirt appears on the page, alive, and we are transported to Turkish zikhr. Sunshine filters through cracks in Ontario barn boards, creating shafts of light. We sound out the dance until resonance fills the space. Vowels of praise ricochet harmonics of Solstice stretch. about us ::: guidelines ::: contact ::: order ::: chapbooks ::: Monday's Poem ::: Monday's Archive