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Best Poems Written by Susan Baquie

Below are the all-time best Susan Baquie poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Susan Baquie Poem

Beach

The horizon cuts straight, long, hard
silently declining less than a degree

like toys across a cartoon’s one frame stillness
a small yacht rocks like a child’s boat
a helicopter putters, a small jet silently
bellies over the sea thundering suddenly
against a graded blue sky
children flying a kite
a plummeting twisting tied bird in its death throes
falling from the warm seemingly red-speckled blue 
broken only by a smudge of grey cloud

curling white-tipped waves swirl against rocks
a lonely Zen-meditative crab in their shade

the sand, ridged, striated, pockmarked
small holes left as bubbling miniature blowholes
fine lines webbed around 
sand rippled like the sea, waved and cleansed 
a poetic transgression? – Neptune’s impost?
the soap-sud foam his in-coming joyful jouissance 
the thin receding water a pin-spot bridal veil
and a bridal train, its white scalloped lace edge
pleating, folding, hiding under the next wave
in rippling curving line-patterns

Details | Susan Baquie Poem

My Symbolic House

my symbolic house
my purple castle
invaded by red clowns
a dialogue
contradicting personal icons
denying synthesis
denying art
trespassing
poaching
unbalancing decentring crucifiers
tearing the paper they make of my mind
tearing tissue
cells sinew flesh blood
a pavlov’s laboratory
for a crowd
appropriation
depersonalisation
obliteration
constructs and betrayals ad infinitum
a teleological structuralism
for others


SBaquie1988

Details | Susan Baquie Poem

Night Green

night green
in my Rembrandt pencil box
is green shade
sharpened
it is a pointed pencil presence
part of a pointillism
part of the paper
part of the picture

night green
in my Rembrandt pencil box
is green shade
not a light green
not a leaf green
not a yellow green
and not too blue

night green
in my Rembrandt pencil box
is green shade
the unknown in every mark
such as the shadows cast 
upon and around 
as the unconscious past
lives within the dialogue of life
and is only sometimes noticed

but the light not so bright
without green shade

Details | Susan Baquie Poem

A Further Discussion With Neptune

the lissom sea lily a testament at your death
feathered petals left in memory

but are you dead, Neptune? 
I am no longer reminded of 
the spotted watery wedding veil along the edge
it has now become a frozen blue veil
around a beach ball
hung or strung 
in the black nowhere space
who threw you, brother of Jupiter and Pluto?
is there a rebound from the toss?

is there another dolphin to find again Salacia in the deep
to see the foaming equine ride 
to find the white pin-spot veil of your jouissance
fringed again on the sands 

but what dolphin can fly so high
no flutter or stutter or flop
but a high forced flipping
wings instead this time 
Pegasus, (mindful of your exalted bloodlines)*
your duty 

*Pegasus born from Neptune (Poseidon)and the Gorgon Medusa

Details | Susan Baquie Poem

Nonsense

nonsense
a reaction surreal
derivative
of reason
imbalance
chaos
before a new order
a rebellion
before compliance
a tower of babel
resolved into
one language

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Birth

As of a chrysalis

the beneficent breakage

exfoliation

emergence from

isolationism

into a mosaic of group dynamics

a centring of regard

a new diagnosis

a lissom beginning

departing an empty goblet

full of peppermint concern


sbaquie  2000

Details | Susan Baquie Poem

A Further Discussion With Neptune

the lissom sea lily a testament at your death
feathered petals left in memory

but are you dead, Neptune?
I am no longer reminded of 
the pin-spotted watery wedding veil
along the edge
it has now become a frozen blue veil
around a beach ball
hung or strung
in the black nowhere space

can you bounce back from the throw, Neptune?

who threw you, brother of Jupiter and Pluto?
is there another dolphin to find again Salacia in the deep
to see the foaming equine ride
to find the white pin-spot veil of your jouissance
fringed again on the sands

but what dolphin can fly so high
no flutter or stutter or flop
but a high-forced flipping
(have we built one so tough?
Pegasus, your wings and strength ... aaaah
you psychopomp, you Charon,
be mindful of your distinguished exalted bloodlines)

will you come so far?

Details | Susan Baquie Poem

The Black Fuchsia

in death 

a vampire bat 

the lost luscious purples and pinks

drowning deep

Details | Susan Baquie Poem

Apples

perhaps prosaically I see only apples                                                                  
  tumble-positioned in cane baskets
  light-patched, colour-streaked
  stalks angled from a cleft
  a stick stuck in a deep dimple
  sometimes one leaf dried
  a sign of the apple tree
  
  I see no eve
  no snake whispering in a shell-pink ear
  no adam being so-called tempted
  his blood-song inherited answering a call to arms
  too young to resist the naïve young-womanly charms
  his master asleep or more busy inventing new worlds
  new galaxies aeons of light years away
     
   but adam and eve are long gone
   centuries ago they went on some fool’s word
   that eating an apple meant leaving paradise 
   for a desert or a wilderness
   
   more or maybe less than a sinful sexual symbolism
   redder apples would more remind me of snow white
   and her small white even teeth
   piercing the polished red skin
   crunching into the white fruit-flesh
   delicious and juicy
   but a maggot of poison
   the jealousy of the queen

    so perhaps prosaically
    I carefully check my apples before I eat  
    cutting them into pieces
    halves halved and again halved
    or even childishly slicing them into rounds
    marvelling at the wheeled flower of the seeds
    and the seed cases
    admiring the thin curled red ribbon strip

Details | Susan Baquie Poem

Drawing

Molest, mark
a hazardous notation
a plenary indulgence
imparting a linkage
with or without symbolism