The Sea of my one night: ,,,,,, The sea was calm and blue like a woman's heart Her shore a bikini-clad woman waiting for sunset Cat eyed girl looking for me looking with a fixed gaze The rocks could hear some murmurs in the background The smell of dried fish wafted through the evening – the seabirds cried again with thirst I slept for a long time in the dark and never saw her again Maybe she's my feelings stuck in the rocks I had always loved the rocks Like the blue of the sea, all rocks are re-enactment of women's hearts | again wandered about in an evening dream She didnot come back even at night I will be reborn for her yet again Is it me or is it the thirst of those birds' cries? I was not in the heaps of self-painted pictures Can you see her cat- eyed portrait amid the rocks? Is there somebody to whisper behind my silhouette in the evenings?

[Muhammed puthuppady]

• I

  The Sea of my one night:
  ,,,,,,
  The sea was calm and blue like a woman’s heart
  Her shore a bikini-clad woman waiting for sunset
  Cat eyed girl looking for me looking with a fixed gaze
  The rocks could hear some murmurs in the background
  The smell of dried fish wafted through the evening – the seabirds cried again with thirst
  I slept for a long time in the dark and never saw her again
  Maybe she’s my feelings stuck in the rocks
  I had always loved the rocks
  Like the blue of the sea, all rocks are re-enactment of women’s hearts
  |  again wandered about in an evening dream
  She didnot come back even at night
  I will be reborn for her yet again
  Is it me or is it the thirst of those birds’ cries?
  I was not in the heaps of self-painted pictures
  Can you see her cat- eyed portrait amid the rocks?
  Is there somebody to whisper behind my silhouette in the evenings?

[Susan Katz]

Thank you for sharing your poem with me.  You have a lovely theme and some very fine lines but I do think your poem would benefit greatly from editing.  I love the lines that make us feel or see or smell or touch or taste and think you should concentrate on images like “rocks are re-enactments of women’s hearts” though I am not sure what that image is supposed to make me feel.  Do women have hearts of stone?  Is that a good thing?  I would love to see your poem again after you’ve had a chance to do some editing and applying more in the way of imagery (metaphor and simile) and line break and alliteration – all those wonderful language devices that turn words and lines into the magic of poetry.  Write on…  Your friend in poetry, Susan

[Author]

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