Title of Poem: The Woman On the Rocks
Poet: John Campbell (Wisconsin)
Source: Just Cruising Through (2004)
Rating: 4 laurels out of 5 laurels
John's poem "Woman On the Rocks" is a free verse. There are six stanzas of four lines each. The total number of lines is 31. The poetic meter is 15-17 syllables per line.
The poem is about a man who is staying in Puerto Rico and he sees a mysterious athletic woman engaged in fishing.
The character in the poem skillfully describes the female stranger in poetic meter of 15 to 17 syllables per line:
"From my perch on the isles of Vieques I sip hot coffee and watch
a woman fish from a rock the size and shape of Moby Dick
She's lean, muscular and wiry like a sprinter, a soccer player,
a tall, willowy Olympian in short-shorts, long legs and naked feet.
A tattoo of a purple-blue dragon peeks from her undershirt,
white against her tan skin shimmering as she twirls
a fishing line like a lasso glistening in the sun, a cowgirl,
arms akimbo, trying to cut the lead stallion from the herd"
The woman on the rocks is a stranger that captured the attention of the male character in the poem because of her athletic beauty.
Is the woman a tourist in Puerto Rico? Is the woman a local woman fishing for food? Is the woman just engaging in the sport of fishing?
The mysterious woman has a tattoo and smokes a tobacco?
What makes this poem excellent is the poet's skillful use of words to describe Puerto Rico and the woman.
Hence, this poem is nominated Best Poem of the Year 2004 for 2005 Muses Prize.
Poet from Wisconsin
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John Campbell lives in Brookfield, Wisconsin, with his wife, Lois. Although considered a technical writer by editors who look to him for non-fiction articles on business and manufacturing related subjects. Some of his poems are published in annual issues of the Wisconsin Poet's Calendar, The Clark Street Review, Free-Verse and Alt-Lit.
Just Cruising Through is a chapbook published by The Penny-Pinching Press located in Brookfield, Wisconsin.
Title of Poem: Every Six Months
Poet: John Campbell
Source: Just Cruising Through (2004)
Rating: 3.5 laurels out of 5 laurels.
AVAILABLE IN PRINT
by John Campbell (Wisconsin)
Source: Just Cruising Through (2004)
A cool Caribbean breeze sweeps white sand across the veranda
at a villa overlooking the rugged rocks bordering the Atlantic.
On my left, a purple profile of Puerto Rico cowers under clouds,
and north, the tiny island of Culebra floats like a gray battle ship.
From my perch on the isles of Vieques I sip hot coffee and watch
a woman fish from a rock the size and shape of Moby Dick
She's lean, muscular and wiry like a sprinter, a soccer player,
a tall, willowy Olympian in short-shorts, long legs and naked feet.
A tattoo of a purple-blue dragon peeks from her undershirt,
white against her tan skin shimmering as she twirls
a fishing line like a lasso glistening in the sun, a cowgirl,
arms akimbo, trying to cut the lead stallion from the herd.
She tosses the line and it sails up and out like a snake in flight,
the weight, then the bait, kiss the turqoise surf and sink deep.
She taps a cigarette from a pack, cups her hand and lights up
with the skill of a seaman on deck with the wind in her face.
Her smoke drifts upward, I inhale her breath, its tobacco aroma.
Who are you woman, where do you live, with whom do you sleep?
Perhaps, we could meet between cinco y siete behind the stacks
in the library, or in a booth behnd palms at Fat Jack's Cafe?
Motionless, she watches the water, a bucket her only companion
I want to climb down to those rocks, ask what she's using for bait,
ask what fish she's caught, would she welcome a man's company?
But the surf drowns all sound, except a voice that shatters my spell,
Dad! Breakfast is ready!
--------------------
Every Six Months
by John Campbell
Source: Just Cruising Through (2004)
Cindy, a green-eyed natural blonde,
a buxom beauty, accompanies me
to a tiny room, her private cubical.
Her fee has gone up twenty bucks,
but what the hell, it's not that often.
With a pro you get what you pay for,
I figure, just twice a year, get the best.
She makes idle chit-chat, tells me
about her husband's poor health,
how her first husband died early, too.
I lay back, relax in a prone position,
feel her soft bosom press my sleeve,
laser-like eyes ready my lusty thoughts.
I quiver, our lips inches apart, eye to eye,
her breasts billow with each breath.
How do you want me to do it? she asks.
Mellow, I say, make it easy on yourself,
your gentle hands know what to do,
I never tell an artist what to paint,
or a choreographer how to dance.
then, let's do it under water, she says,
I find that's easier on my wrists..so,
I don dark glasses, open my mouth
in which she pokes a prophylactic
probe and begins to clean my teeth.
------------------
Copyright (c) 2005 belongs to John Campbell.
Available in print edition.
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