"The Gulf of Maine" and "Wind and Waves"
New Poetry from The Metropolitan Review
We at The Metropolitan Review are very excited for our second dispatch of poetry. These poems highlight the paradoxical nature of the way waves can shape our relationship to the Earth, ourselves, and each other. As summer stretches to its hottest point, the water can offer respite or tragedy, much like longing and love. Poets Mari Pack and Buku Sarkar use language to create an evocative experience, looking at the waves to see what they hold while there is still time.
—The Editors
The Gulf of Maine
is too cold to be heartbreaking, but contains within it a kind of dreadful dreamscape, impossible to access
all the years my friend lived in her lobster town. When we finally got interested in the Atlantic,
every night changed.
My wish to be naked expanded like a flower and my will diminished. A nightmare is nothing to fear, but a dream foretells
the end of something. According to scientists, galaxies do not move through space but rather with space as it expands. How infuriating
to arrive at original thought through theory. One should arrive anywhere through nautical imagery. Water triggers my desire
for violence, my inability to remain calm for even a single second. Lo, the death skiff is calling. Let us leave this all behind.
Mari Pack is a writer living outside Philly. Her poems have been published in Poetry International, Brooklyn Poets, and Pigeon Pages. She was nominated for a 2024 Best of the Net.Wind and Waves
Just as the wind leaves No scar On the river So too do you stir me With your touch.
Just like the wind and the waves All night We turn and touch And rise and touch
And in the morning We meet again.
Buku Sarkar is a Calcutta/NY and Paris based writer and photographer. Her first book, Not Quite a Disaster After All, is forthcoming in the U.S. this fall. Her first collection of poems, My Dead Flowers, will be out in December. | A guest post by
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Lovely.
Wading out into the cold water at the beach in Ogunquit, whether naked or in swim trunks, requires a desire for immersion stronger than the knowledge of that initial shivering, sometimes teeth-chattering cold. It's worth it. Also: Be extra careful going into the water at night.
To be grateful to be touched without being scarred seems a low bar, but these are hard times.
Thank you for both of these poems.