International Poetry Competition
Grand Prize Winner: 2006
Phrases for Public Speakers at Sea
by M. B. Powell
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Home Pond
The student should read aloud daily several pages of these phrases, think just what
each
one means, and whenever possible fill out the phrase in his own words. A month’s
earnest practise of this kind will yield astonishing results.
—Grenville
Kleiser, Phrases for Public Speakers (1910)
We ought, first of all, to note
her oceanic eyes flecked with sea wrack.
And we should pause to consider
the wavy wilderness of her damp hair.
I will not dwell on
her cheeks ruddy under my thumbstrokes.
I will not attempt to explain
the shapely abalone shells of her ears.
I wish to call your attention to
the cunning animal of her mouth, muscular.
I wish to say something about
the mollusky dark language of her kisses.
I am obliged to mention
her sudden breasts, breaching, rhythmic.
And I am perfectly astounded at
her finger charting my lips round her nipple.
Here, in this connection, let us notice
her nipple against the roof of my mouth.
Here, in passing, let us observe
her palms casting me down the dark seaway.
And here, I have to speak again of
sea wrack, oceanic pools, salt waves.
And here, I wish I could stop
and surface, save myself, return to tell.
But now it begins to be apparent
that I am far weaker than I had thought.
And now we are naturally brought on to
the sea change that deception brings.
You may point, if you will, to
scripture, proverbs, and therapeutic talk.
You may also search through history
and learn that my deafness is archetypal.
It is, to be sure, a melancholy fact that
love’s clouds will ever hang on us, drown us.
It is, to be sure, a notorious fact that
love’s tempest has driven me from my home.
What remains to be shown is
whether I can put an end to this.
What remains to be considered is
whether anyone should.
For when we contemplate
the doldrums of life, we cannot rest.
And, likewise, when we reflect upon
the pitiful port, we must rush into peril.
Let no one suppose
I can tread safely the sea green of her eyes.
Let no one suggest there is any among us
who could. I sink. I lose everything.
Permit me to illustrate the point:
I am overboard, hands manacled in her hair.
Permit me to remind you that
you have not met her, felt her undertow.

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