Poetry: Karin Kaminker

THE WAVE

I am a wave
hidden, deep
mirror-still.

When nature pulls
back at my feet
I do not fall.

I rise.

I stand and swell
curl,
unfurl

then in a swirl,
remake
the shore.

*

ANGUISH

It came in waves:
his father, gone.

In waves
it came
brought on
by the empty garden bench
among the willows,
by the lone dachshund
sniffing around
for father’s absent feet,
by the uncollected news
and dusty bottle of sour wine.

In waves,
surging forth
from his mother’s distant stare,
crippling,
breath-robbing,
wrenching the soul,
drowning the heart,
battering thought,
it came
with the force of Poseidon,
wrathful,
charging,
with stinging tridents,
lunatic eyes

Rampant, merciless
unbidden, untamed
in fathomless torrents
eddies, whirlpools
and cascades
of drowned time
it came
Crashing him down,
rendering him
powerless,
time after time,
wave after wave
it came:

His father,
forever, gone.

*

Karin Kaminker is a Geneva-based poet, translator and songwriter. She has been active in writers’ communities in Europe for many years, including the UN Society of Writers and the Association of English Language Poets in Vienna, of which she was co-founder. You can read more of her work in the Geneva Writers’ Group publication, Offshoot, Issue 14.

Author: Libby O'Loghlin

Novelist and poet, social entrepreneur and content coach. Co-Founder + Co-Creative Director of The Woolf Quarterly; Co-Founder of WriteCon and The Powerhouse Zurich.

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1 Comment

  1. Karin, your words are beautiful, like you.

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