Whether or not you are familiar with Smashing Pumpkins’ front man Billy Corgan, one thing is certain, he is a masterful lyricist. Is it coincidence that he is also a great poet, or does it just naturally follow since lyrics are poetry? Tonight, I present a poem from Corgan’s poetry book Blinking With Fists, a collection of beautiful poems in which Corgan explores the emotional journey that comes with love, loss, identity, and loyalty.
In the wake of poseidon is one of those poems that can be read in two different ways. Since the title is written in lowercase letters, they encourage you to read the title as part of the body of the poem; and yet you get a different feel from the beginning when you read the title as just that—a title. A beautiful poem with vibrant images and a certain romance to the lines, it is a poem about bravery and commanding your own ship, “Spellbound! I was cast in an unlikely role/Seafarer, captain of the ship/I cut the lines to shore and said her prayer of honor.” When you think of Poseidon the God of Sea, you think of rough seas and the strength of the ocean. However, what Corgan is really drawing on is the beauty of calm seas, being in the moment and therefore being present “in the wake of Poseidon.” It seems like Corgan is reminding us how beautiful it is to take a moment. The last two lines are perfect and they draw on the elation of going with the flow, “Drifting to and further fro/Caught between delight and what you know. What comes to mind when you read this poem? As always – Stay with Sharon and The Write Talk!
in the wake of poseidon
She held the pearl to her lips
Pushing it between her little teeth to shine
In waters crystal clear and reflective
I caused a certain dancing around the eyes
Spellbound! I was cast in an unlikely role
Seafarer, captain of the ship
I cut the lines to shore and said her prayers of honor
Did I mention the pearl was gray?
So in the wake of Poseiden did we reach and stretch
Up and out and towards
Dancing beneath all stars to behold
Now these are lazy scenes to paint
But it’s the breeze, the soft warm summer breeze
That I most wish to convey
A tempest without sound
Sneaking up on us in seagull cries
And her bubles and gurgles from down below
So out there we were all alone
In the wakeDrifting to and further fro
Caught between delight and what you know