The Return (full sequence)

The Return

1. Penelope Waits

why do I constantly
look out our window
hoping to see your ship
returning to its harbour?
why do I listen for the sound
of your footsteps echoing
up to our bedchamber?
but I know you too well
you've gone after
your own desires
& I'm the spider
who waits quietly
the thing with journeys
is that they spiral inwards
to your own dark heart
should you return
you'll find me here
spinning a web
to ensnare you
& every night I unpick it
while hungry men wait below
none of them
have your eyes
or your smell
all the heroes returned
from the wars,
except you
long have I dreamed
of your dark hair, tanned skin,
& sinewy form to emerge
out of the frothing sea-water
& into my arms
but I know you too well
you will come home only
when you are tired
of your journeys
your betrayals
your lies
& after so many threads
I'm tired of waiting
for our lives to begin again
is there anything worth
between us?

2. Telemachus Schemes

I planned to go & find him
in my dreams a goddess
with long dark hair &
ivory skin faintly whispered
that he would return
I traveled but found
no word of him, just assurances
so I pace the walls of our palace
while fat old men
drink our wine
eat our food
lounge around
planning to covet my mother
in my father's house
they pay no attention to me
I wander unnoticed
& unchecked
my mother hides behind walls
picking & unpicking at embroidery
there is nothing to do
but wait
my father left me for the wars
I was too young to join
now that I'm older
my mother seems unsure
of my intentions
every day I look
to the fathomless sea hoping
to see my father's ship
negotiating the waves
one day I will find him
my time will come
3. Calypso Sings

It is surprising what a storm
throws up on the shore -
today walking along
the alabaster sands
after a tumultuous night
I found a man
he was bedraggled
partially clothed in seaweed
& rags, his skin tanned &
muscles on his sinewy arms
like knotted rope
I thought him dead
but as I watched
he coughed up seawater
so I got to my knees
& softly sang
to arouse him
he awoke in despair
he had lost everything -
his men, his ship,
his way home
I led him to my house
plying him with wine, goats cheese,
& grapes, while singing
to calm him
slowly I fell in love
with the scars on his back,
his long sea-bleached hair,
his moods, & his occasional
he explored the hidden caves
of my island, the forests
& secret waterfalls
I wanted him to forget
his family
his own people
I kept him here for seven years
& took him for my lover
I wanted him to love me
but his heart was already taken
the other gods
wanted me to throw him back
to the ocean
& he was restless
pining for his wife
he would sit on the beach for hours
watching the waves
slowly sobbing & staring
in the direction of his home
I knew I was no longer part
of his story
so I let him go
he will go back to his wife
& I will be left here
looking out to the sea
watching over him
as he sails away
hoping my charms
will keep him safe
on the ocean paths
he will return to his island
& win back his lost kingdom
I will be left here
on my own again
singing softly to myself

4. Eurylochus Laments

Curse the Gods
& all those who follow them
I am not a fatalist, but I know
we are all doomed
he will escape though
he always escapes
it is us who pay for it
we have faced a monster with six heads
eating our crew-mates, a witch
who turned us into pigs,
women with beautiful voices
trying to lure us ashore,
a giant who dashed the heads
of the crew against a cavern wall
& ate them whole, & of course
Gods seeking vengeance for his
own transgressions & deceits
& each time
he survives

he is my lord & king
when you gaze into the chaos
long enough
you get to see how things will
fall into place
he will make it home &
win back his kingdom
our wives, sons, & daughters
will grieve, wondering what
became of us
all will marvel at his survival;
the story of the lost sea-wanderer
emerging like Orpheus
out of the Land of the Dead
sparing no thought for us
we will be lost
amongst the waves,
scattered across these islands
& forgotten
he will return
& sacrifice us all for it

5. Athena Watches

it was not meant to happen like this
he wasn't meant to take so long
to get home
events can spiral
even out of our reach
when you play everyone
like puppets the strings
can get tangled
the human race is nothing but story
individual lives
threads of narrative
to be told in the dark night
by the roaring bonfire
under a black sky burning
with bright stars
we gods know this
& yet we also know
that we are part of this story too;
a story within a story
I contrived for everything
to turn out the way I wished
yet the path always branches
onto an infinite number of
other paths to take
he was imprisoned on that island
for so long I told her
she had to let him go

 when he does return
he will be alone
there will be reunions &
reconciliations & bloodshed
I have done my best
to set things right
yet there are always other pathways

6. Odysseus Returns

Saltwater is in my blood -
most of my life has been spent
in the sea or boats

after Troy fell
it was a rough journey home
every day I dreamed
to return to the rocky shores
of my kingdom

to see it's olive trees & quiet bays
& wander the long hill-paths

she held me captive for years
& slowly I fell for her charms
but then she told me I had to go

she gave me a sharp axe &
I built a boat from the tall
alders, poplars, & firs
on her island, once it
was finished she loaded
it with pomegranates, goat's
cheese, apples, & wine
& then off I went sailing
the oceans paths home

when I returned I was alone,
there were parasites living
in my house
eating my food,
drinking my wine &
after I killed them all
I was king again

with a people I no longer recognise
or understand

a young man calls me father
watching me intently with every step

& my wife
is not her
not the woman I left

she has erected walls within walls
I cannot find my way through her labyrinth
she kept suitors out of our bed for so long
she has grown used to the solitude

every night I dream
I am lying on the white sand
listening to the waves rolling lazily ashore
& she is there
standing over me
softly singing
while a breeze blows through
her long brown hair

then I awake
it is still dark
& I hear my wife
muttering in her sleep

on the wind
I can hear the waves
calling me to sail again -
saltwater is in my blood

Joanne Fisher

It’s nice to see it all together.

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Šī¸2021 Joanne Fisher

Four Years of Joanne the Geek

Four years ago I started this blog, and I’m still here. Thanks to everyone who has followed, read, liked, or commented on my posts. Hopefully there will be many more to come 🙂

In other news: my poem “Into the Unknown” has been accepted for publication in Catalyst 18 which should be appearing at the end of this month. Thanks to the editor.

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Šī¸2021 Joanne Fisher

Morning Song (poem)

Morning Song

while sunlight streams
into the room, Mahler's

I've Lost Touch With the World
plays in the background

a title rather apt these days,
while I might be the star

of my own dreams, nowhere
else do I garner such 

significance, I exist in
the margins of thoughts

struggling to rise above
the vapidity of modern

life, so I'm adrift in the
labyrinths of my own

fantasies, probably not
a bad thing if I am truly

lost to this world...

Joanne Fisher

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Šī¸2021 Joanne Fisher

Pre-loved (poem)


It's not like
I haven't loved before,
or been loved

these days however
I think I should be
regarded as pre-loved
by anyone who
comes across me,
as we all are...

though I now forget
what it's like to
have someone

to fall into their arms
and feel them hold onto

I've tried to make
my heart harder than
diamond, to no longer
be vulnerable, but
still I love

Joanne Fisher

Word count: 71

This was written with the prompt pre-loved provided by Sammi Cox’s Weekend Writing Prompt #223.

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Šī¸2021 Joanne Fisher

True Story (repost)

True Story

the first time
you meet her
you're caught
in the orbit
of a brilliant new sun

she is stuck in your thoughts
you hope you're in hers

every time you meet
you seem full of electricity,
always wanting to be there
reflecting her radiance...

then one day
she is gone &
you are lost

in the sub-light hours
waking from strange dreams
you imagine she is there
her arms wrapped around -
a layer to protect you from the world

but she is not there
she will never be there
her eyes now cold & distant
as a starless void

wishing she would text, call,
or something
your happiness falls

you will survive this, barely
you will cry, you will fall apart
& yet she will always be there

you wake up alone
hoping you can let her go.

Joanne Fisher

There was a gap of a few years when I mostly stopped writing. This poem is the one of the few I wrote during this period. I repost it now as I recently walked past the woman who I wrote it about and it was enough to bring back all those feelings. It took me the entirety of last weekend to get over it. If I had thought I was over her, I was very much mistaken.

I originally published this poem on this blog in June, 2018.

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Šī¸2021 Joanne Fisher

Always Waiting… (poem)

Always Waiting...

I'm always waiting
for you

but you never

just as well
you see

I don't deserve

certainly not
from you

I'll sabotage

left between
us, so

you're better
to stay away

the damaged and
the broken

are loners by
choice, yet

often wishing
we weren't

Joanne Fisher

Sometimes I need to get these off my chest.

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Šī¸2021 Joanne Fisher

Dark Blood (poem)

Dark Blood

what a way to die -
seizures on the sidewalk
on a dark Halloween night

you wanted to escape
the tinsel people
the sick and the hungry

to fill the emptiness:
heroin, LSD, cocaine,
marijuana, valium...

whatever you need
within arms reach,
who could save you

when your insides 
are like a dead crab
picked over by gulls

and there is not

Joanne Fisher

Originally published in JAAM 12

I haven’t had much time to write lately so I’m falling back on an old poem. When I put my first collection together I didn’t include this poem as I felt it was too weak. Revisiting (and giving it a rewrite) makes me wonder it was better than I thought at the time.

When I wrote this I had just read a biography of the actor River Phoenix who died on October 31, 1993. At the time he was working on the film Dark Blood. They had just shot the exterior parts of the film in the desert and then come back to Hollywood to shoot the interior scenes in a studio. Upon returning to Los Angeles, Phoenix went on a drugs binge that led to his death and the film was never completed. The director George Sluizer ended up releasing the film in 2012. He narrated the parts that never got shot, and having seen it recently, you do get a sense of what was lost. It would have been a very intriguing film had it been shot in it’s entirety and it touches on some very dark themes, which probably didn’t help Phoenix at the time. The list of drugs in the poem is what was found in Phoenix’s bloodstream after his death. I find it sad when obviously talented people throw away their lives needlessly.

On an unrelated note my blood is a rather dark colour similar to the colour above, just so you know…

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Šī¸2021 Joanne Fisher

Nana’s Photos (poem)

Nana's Photos

Sifting through archeological 
layers of photographs -
at first encountering younger versions 
of myself and siblings, going backwards 
until I find a picture of Nana and Grandad 
looking like Bonnie and Clyde

I never knew that side of her, I never
knew Grandad.
all I remember is him
sitting by the dining room table,
but was it real?
I learned of his death through
osmosis - one day I knew 
he was gone, though I was never told

But here they are together still
in their twenties, looking at the camera
with a future ahead of them
as we all do.

Joanne Fisher

This was written with the prompt about an old photograph provided by the Carrot Ranch July 1 Flash Fiction Challenge.

The prompt reminded me of the time my siblings and I went through our grandmother’s photos that were all in a large pile in a hall cupboard and we found that photograph. There were also ones of Nana dressed as a flapper. She looked as though she was quite stylish then, not the grandmother I had known.

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Šī¸2021 Joanne Fisher