.
The Red Sea
From quite far off we smelled its salt
And now stand stunned upon its shore.
We stare into the writhing vault
Where Moses sees a corridor.
It seems there were not graves enough
In Egypt so that now it’s rough
And shallow holes of bloodied sand
That we can claim as Promised Land.
We’re called now to be bold and brave
(A steady wind comes from the east…),
Called all as prophet and as priest.
But me, inside I’m still a slave:
I see the sea, it starts to climb
—But will it open up on time?
.
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The Waiting Room
__It’s mostly men, as usual.
__We humbly wait, our plumbing gone awry
In ways arcane and medical,
And dare not science nor the odds defy
____Nor Medicare’s benign largess
____(Both Part A and Part B).
Some just leave fluids, some are taking tests,
While I prepare for when he queries me
How many times a night I have to pee.
.
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Jeffrey Essmann is an essayist and poet living in New York. His poetry has appeared in numerous magazines and literary journals, among them Agape Review, America Magazine, Dappled Things, the St. Austin Review, U.S. Catholic, Grand Little Things, Heart of Flesh Literary Journal, and various venues of the Benedictine monastery with which he is an oblate. He is editor of the Catholic Poetry Room page on the Integrated Catholic Life website.
Reading these was such a great way to start the day, Jeffrey. The contrast between the two made me smile. “The Red Sea” is beautiful in its portrayal of what the character is thinking and feeling. “Where Moses saw a corridor” is an absolutely brilliant line. And I like the way you played with the rhyme scheme. The humor of “The Waiting Room” is delightful.
Thanks so much, Cynthia. I’m afraid I can’t take credit for the rhymer or, for that matter, the meter. It’s the Pushkin sonnet form, which I find perfect for pieces that call for some formal disorientation.
Again, thanks so much for your kind comments. Happy to have kicked off your day.
Jeffrey
Jeffrey, I like the note of personal honesty and acknowledgement of our own frailty as humans here. We truly are dependent creatures, beholden to our Maker for any fortitude and grace we have.
P.S. – I also like the tetrameter on that sonnet and the tighter presentation it affords.
Jeffrey, I really admire your Red Sea poem which does a terrific job of retelling the story of the parting of the Red Sea from the perspective of someone whose faith is a bit shaky yet hopeful. The line “But me, inside, I’m still a slave” is particularly touching and observant after the call to be bold and brave. This is relatable and beautiful.
Your Red Sea poem was very moving told with such honesty by one of the participants . Thanks…Allegra
Jeffrey,
I’m really impressed by how much you packed into the fourteen lines of The Red Sea. You managed to develop the intensity of feeling in the narrator as well as incorporate some of the specifics from the biblical account — not enough graves in Egypt, the wind from the east, etc. Well done! My favorite lines are “We stare into the writhing vault
Where Moses sees a corridor.”
The second poem made me smile.
I also learned something from your comment; I hadn’t heard of the Pushkin sonnet form.
Profundity and humor – who could ask for more?
Theology and funology. A fine mix.
Thanks for the reads, Jeffrey.
Jeffrey, the form of “The Red Sea” is very tight indeed, to include the whole story as if known in advance by the speaker. Characterization of him (as somewhere between hope and doubt) is achieved through precise wording and placement of lines that flow like the disoriented consciousness of a life-and-death situation. A poem showing considerable artistic skill!
Thanks so much, Margaret!