Steely eyes gaze over clustered concrete flowers
A god of man-made nature looking down upon creation
Always alone except for now
As he stands humbled beneath the female form.
Sat high, higher than beast, God or man
Fearless and majestic, an eagle in her own right
The phallic power beneath her
And the eternal memories of humanity held loosely in her hands.
Can anyone hear me?
Primal winds whip past as though in flight
But neither woman nor eagle stirs
Both ignore the signs of life
And focus only on the unreal.
Love you all
Oh but to fly through the smog-cloaked sky
Dodging mountains and buildings with equal contempt
To soar up to Heaven on winds of change
But man has chained them down, always as forever.
This was a poem I wrote in my poetry lecture back at uni. It was nothing but a warm up task where we were each given a random picture as a prompt to write about. I was given this captivating photograph of the photographer Margaret Bourke-White.
The language might be a bit pompous. Any English based subject feels like you need to mention Freud and phallic themes at least once every day. As such I started to use those sorts of language and themes more to meet my tutor’s standards. I found it all a bit bullshit really. I write fantasy and my poetry was simple. It was either dark expressions of dark emotions or happy musings on my lovely dog. This was an attempt to be more academic. I actually quite like it.
Tell me what you think.