Spotlighting Pan-African Poetry

Biography

Sorting it out

Enlarge poem

to be reduced to this –
who can afford this, this opus of such selfishness –
the only way for a poet
you could do something else

what you can make and how little difference you make or
what you can make and how little difference you make –

they’re shouting too loud to hear you anyway and it’s all
so long ago and always about money all over again and you’re shouting
how to sort it all out
how to make ends meet
how to make yourself heard
to hear yourself
go through it
all over again:
don’t even tell me when there’s and advert for a job in the action ads
I don’t want to know it: it’s like a bloody argument
doctrinal, dogmatic
god is sick of it

Joan Metelerkamp

Featured Poem:

Eve Calls

Enlarge poem

Months before we began
to conceive you
I was singing of you, sighing for you,
Dreaming of golden delicious;

and then he took to the python;

on the morning before I lay down,
knowing what was coming
to receive you
I began:

stowed in my hold
I shall grow you
like grain
rain, rain
of my slakin
shall shape you
with fire, gold
of your limbs
I shall hold you –

I was crooning for you, crowning
with you, see, singing
who shall take me home, home,
you shall take me home –

calling to God
knows whom who had
banished me
answering back I shall do it

fuck death fuck death come birth come death

see – I have let loose
my faith, Child,
at last night the sluice
of a damned desire –

he was all lovers
and all lovers I

he was the first man the first lover
with limbs for holding
and I for letting go –

taking the waves
for letting you in
swimming to meet you
in what element we
do not know.

joan

How does this featured poem make you feel?

  • Amazement (0)
  • Pride (0)
  • Optimism (0)
  • Anger (0)
  • Delight (0)
  • Inspiration (0)
  • Reflection (0)
  • Captivation (0)
  • Peace (0)
  • Amusement (0)
  • Sorrow (0)
  • Vigour (0)
  • Hope (0)
  • Sadness (0)
  • Fear (0)
  • Jubilation (0)

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Biography

Joan Metelerkamp is one of South Africa’s foremost poets. She is the author of eight books of poems. Her work won literary prizes (SANLAM, Sydney Clouts) in the early 1990s and later she judged the DALRO and Ingrid Jonker prizes. Her poems have been widely published in local and international anthologies of South African poetry, and she has taken part in readings and literary festivals here and in Europe and America. She edited the South African poetry journal New Coin for some years and has also written poetry reviews and essays. She lives on a farm near Knysna.

Joan Metelerkamp

joan
joan

Biography

Joan Metelerkamp is one of South Africa’s foremost poets. She is the author of eight books of poems. Her work won literary prizes (SANLAM, Sydney Clouts) in the early 1990s and later she judged the DALRO and Ingrid Jonker prizes. Her poems have been widely published in local and international anthologies of South African poetry, and she has taken part in readings and literary festivals here and in Europe and America. She edited the South African poetry journal New Coin for some years and has also written poetry reviews and essays. She lives on a farm near Knysna.

Sorting it out

Enlarge poem

to be reduced to this –
who can afford this, this opus of such selfishness –
the only way for a poet
you could do something else

what you can make and how little difference you make or
what you can make and how little difference you make –

they’re shouting too loud to hear you anyway and it’s all
so long ago and always about money all over again and you’re shouting
how to sort it all out
how to make ends meet
how to make yourself heard
to hear yourself
go through it
all over again:
don’t even tell me when there’s and advert for a job in the action ads
I don’t want to know it: it’s like a bloody argument
doctrinal, dogmatic
god is sick of it

Featured Poem:

Eve Calls

Enlarge poem

Months before we began
to conceive you
I was singing of you, sighing for you,
Dreaming of golden delicious;

and then he took to the python;

on the morning before I lay down,
knowing what was coming
to receive you
I began:

stowed in my hold
I shall grow you
like grain
rain, rain
of my slakin
shall shape you
with fire, gold
of your limbs
I shall hold you –

I was crooning for you, crowning
with you, see, singing
who shall take me home, home,
you shall take me home –

calling to God
knows whom who had
banished me
answering back I shall do it

fuck death fuck death come birth come death

see – I have let loose
my faith, Child,
at last night the sluice
of a damned desire –

he was all lovers
and all lovers I

he was the first man the first lover
with limbs for holding
and I for letting go –

taking the waves
for letting you in
swimming to meet you
in what element we
do not know.

How does this featured poem make you feel?

  • Amazement (0)
  • Pride (0)
  • Optimism (0)
  • Anger (0)
  • Delight (0)
  • Inspiration (0)
  • Reflection (0)
  • Captivation (0)
  • Peace (0)
  • Amusement (0)
  • Sorrow (0)
  • Vigour (0)
  • Hope (0)
  • Sadness (0)
  • Fear (0)
  • Jubilation (0)

Sorting it out

Enlarge poem

to be reduced to this –
who can afford this, this opus of such selfishness –
the only way for a poet
you could do something else

what you can make and how little difference you make or
what you can make and how little difference you make –

they’re shouting too loud to hear you anyway and it’s all
so long ago and always about money all over again and you’re shouting
how to sort it all out
how to make ends meet
how to make yourself heard
to hear yourself
go through it
all over again:
don’t even tell me when there’s and advert for a job in the action ads
I don’t want to know it: it’s like a bloody argument
doctrinal, dogmatic
god is sick of it

Comments

Your email address will not be published.