ant ecstacy
A sidewalk crack
corrals a growing puddle
of melting creamsicle.
The child still clutches her sticky stick
crying for her toppled treat.
An army of ants
marches to paradise
sampling the nectar
of ant gods.
posted by maya @ 9:28 AM
4 comments
4 Comments:
OMG, I am so much in love with ‘the nectar of ant gods!’ How I wish I’d thought of this when poor April dropped her ice cream again and again; she would have been delighted to be supplying ant ecstacy and it would have taken all the sting out of the lost treat immediately. I’m crazy about the images . . . the sidewalk crack as a corral to the growing puddle, the army of ant soldiers marching to paradise. Can’t you just picture them - so intent, so diligent, so serious as they march tenaciously into sumptuousness. *giggle*
Winnie,
Last year,I wrote a similar poem about ice cream and ants, though I never wrote it down. I'm pretty sure I shared it with you somewhere else. Is reworking an old idea and calling it new, a form of "poetic license"? I've always wanted to deliberately drop an ice pop near an ant hill, wait for the colony to swarm , then take a photograph, which I'll call "How sweet it is". I have far too much free time on my hands!
Maya - I had a picture on my wall during college that came out of The New Yorker . . . it was stylized and dark . . . a girl sitting at a desk, leaning over a sheaf of papers, her long blonde hair covering her face. On the wall behind her is a framed document which reads simply: “Poetic License.” I loved that picture, I always figured it was MY poetic license. I’m in favor of a great deal of said same - believing most rules of language are made to be bent and nothing is written in stone. I also truly believe that the language is not static, but ever changing and ‘becoming.’ Yes, indeed, Poetic License allows you to rework an old poem and call it new . . . it IS new.
OK . . . I’m going to tell you. The companion picture to “Poetic License” on my wall during college also came from the New Yorker. It showed an altar with many people bowing down before it. On the altar was a big ornate ‘N’ for ‘nothing.’ In the crowd of bowing people, one turns to the other and asks, “Is nothing sacred?”
Third item on wall: a funny which shows a place resembling the ‘pearly gates’ with a sign indicating it is the area to apply for reincarnation. “So,” says the guy behind the desk, “I understand you were a great psychoanalyst in your last life?” “Yes,” replies the other guy, “but you’re only Jung once.”
Yes. I was a strange child! Now, get out your camera and go drop that ice cream. I can’t wait.
Winnie,
We seem to be the only wanderers meeting in the Oasis today.:)
I love all three images you had on your wall. (Is nothing sacred?) Great! My own Higher Power has a wonderful sense of humor......
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