A Sad Lake Memory

Edward Sapir came to my mind
as I was walking past a lakeshore.
I never quite understood how
language influences the mind,
but now I kind of get it.

Embarrassment tends to come back in waves:
the first blunders of my fitting in,
the first syllables curling like
ivy tied to my tremorous throat.

I was supposed to be smart, to make an impression,
instead, I mumbled something like
Lake Sapphire is great in winter

  • with a pronounced p.

Sapir must’ve been on my mind,
he seemed like such an overarching man,
I remember the professor’s flickering smile,
I remember my colleagues’ compassionate gaze.

I still think that lake is out-of-this world,
and I believe lakes create ponderous ponds in my mind.
I felt the momentum, raw and intense, instead,
my lips spit out that ‘p’ like there was no tomorrow.

As the Water Ran

I think I began to forget you
in the noise of the water thundering
down Niagara Falls:
your face was there for just one moment, then
it faded for good.

You were taken away by the rushes of water,
you were drowned in the roar of the waves,
you were swallowed by the ominous abyss,
and I died a bit with you then and there.

I never felt more distanced from myself

  • I hear this is how schizophrenics feel –
    the noise like thousand engines igniting at once,
    the wish to drown.

I’ll probably never see you again in this life.
with you, I lost the audacity to hope,
whatever went away from me that day
is buried deep down by Niagara Falls.

Ioana Cosma is a writer and lecturer from Romania. Her sixth volume of poetry is forthcoming from Dancing Girl Press in May and her first novel will appear in Romania in July. Her play, The Men from the Mechanical Age, will be part of the JCTC Theater Festival in New Jersey. She writes poetry, short stories, novels and plays.