Finding the Poem (2)

Outside your head, a poem can be waiting to form. As you peruse factual or scientific text, an idea, an image, even a sound stands out and intrigues you. In its oddity or uniqueness you believe you see poetry and want to bring this potential to the forefront.

For example, many years ago when I was researching mining geology, I was fascinated by the language itself. Much was highly academic, multisyllabic, and abstract. Another layer was anchored in the nitty-gritty concreteness of rock. The words themselves were vibrant. They had an expressive weight and density I could imagine yielding meaning based on their sound alone, and resulted in this poem.

         
               Even the Words¹
                
               Fingered close to the ear,
               even the words are solid
               enough to pan for sound.
               Taste their grit and sheen.
                
               Crustal and grossular scrape.
               Scapolite juts its corners.
               Like a spade swung against metal
               klint shivers the air.
 
               How sinewy, plagioclase,
               while rodingites smartly line up,
               but diopside droops, slides over,
               an oyster slurped from the shell.
               
               If tourmaline cools the tongue,
               skarn is half skunk, half onion.
               Be careful not to breathe too deep
               or choke on a cloud of vug.
               
               Precise scientific terms?
               Beyond tight definition
               their syllables bristle and throb
               more than full of themselves.

 _______________

1.  Susan Ioannou, Poems on Geology, Metals, Minerals, and Mining: For the Love of Rocks (Toronto: Wordwrights Canada, 2017), p. 33.