Monday, April 9, 2012

Titanic

I saw Titanic in theaters last night in 3D, and it was absolutely marvelous. I've come to the conclusion that I am in support of this whole re-releasing movies thing, because there's really nothing better than seeing a classic movie that you love in theaters. No disappointment, no plot twists, just everything you love about the movie on a bigger screen. It's magical.

I especially love that they released it again in memory of the sinking, which happened 100 years ago on Thursday.

I was actually more moved by seeing it in theaters than I thought I would be. I've seen the movie a dozen times and could quote the whole thing, but it really struck me. I even cried. When I got home, I started writing this poem immediately, and just finished it today.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

A sharp outcry escapes my cold-covered lips,
echoing through the North Atlantic air
like a siren, though the passengers
have already gone deaf to the chaos.

I run back to you; latch on
to your overcoat; tangle my fingers in your tousled hair
and pray for just a stretch of a moment.
It’s time to go, they hasten, but I cannot—
my organs have compressed themselves within me;
my breath has expelled into cool night air.

“Only for a little while,” you whisper to me,
then bury your lips as a kiss in my curls,
but I know better. It is not;
you will not be able to swim back to me.
But you are my life raft; those are the paths
that lead to dry land separate from you.
In them, the cries will fill my head,
the desperate moans from those nearly dead,
and I’d rather not hear a dying man’s hour.

You are my haven, you’ll carry me home—
but you’ll catch the next one. And hope will be our
final farewell, as you insist.
And oh, how destiny has favored me—
that your love pushes me towards life,
and mine clings to your warm comfort.

Forsaking consent, I’m tossed towards a boat.
You wave goodbye as if it’s temporary—
I tremble and cry, as if tears could drown a survivor.
Take them down, I hear overhead,
then I descend towards the abyss
with the figure of you etched into the stars.

I’ll see you again, love—in the catacombs;
in the waterlogged tombs and sepulchers;
in the icy oceans of my memory;
in the nightmares that rise from the frigid sea.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

--Emily