{"id":29474,"date":"2015-06-23T06:30:26","date_gmt":"2015-06-22T18:30:26","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/?p=29474"},"modified":"2015-06-21T21:19:38","modified_gmt":"2015-06-21T09:19:38","slug":"the-tuesday-poem-refeaturing-frankie-mcmillan-my-father-the-oceanographer","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/2015\/06\/23\/the-tuesday-poem-refeaturing-frankie-mcmillan-my-father-the-oceanographer\/","title":{"rendered":"The Tuesday Poem: Refeaturing Frankie McMillan \u2014 \u201cMy Father, The Oceanographer\u201d"},"content":{"rendered":"

My father, the oceanographer<\/span>
\n.<\/span><\/p>\n

knew the language of whales
\nyet tripped over the sound
\nof his own name<\/p>\n

They say the cure for death
\nis drowning and for a lisp
\na bucket of salt water<\/p>\n

—-<\/p>\n

In white gumboots he entered
\nthe stomach of a whale
\nsat brooding under the great arched bones
\nof a church<\/p>\n

invoking the mantra of LFA sonar
\nwhale fall
\nand echolation<\/p>\n

stripped to his underwear,
\nso great was the heat, and
\nblubber <\/em>he said<\/p>\n

now there was a word to make you weep
\n.<\/span><\/p>\n

(c) Frankie McMillan<\/p>\n

First published in Turbine<\/strong>, 2011.<\/p>\n

Also in: There are no horses in heaven<\/strong>, Canterbury University press, 2015.<\/p>\n

Featured here with permission.<\/p>\n

\u2014<\/p>\n

About the Poem:<\/strong><\/h3>\n

I am currently engaged\u00a0 in the process of re-posting poets who have had multiple poems featured here on \u201c\u2026Anything, Really\u201d <\/em>, or by me on the Tuesday Poem Hub<\/a>, since I joined the Tuesday Poem community in June 2010.<\/p>\n

Today I am delighted to continue featuring the “unique and insightful” (Beatties Bookblog) poetry of Frankie McMillan. When I first posted My father, the oceanographer<\/em> in 2012, I asked Frankie to provide her own perspective on the work. Here’s what she said:<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m never sure how a poem is \u2018made\u2019 but once I have a good opening line it gives me the courage to explore the possibilities. It\u2019s a hit and miss method and out of the many poems I attempt only a few survive. I think this poem may have echoes of the biblical story, Jonah and the whale. The fact my father hardly talked to me as a child may also have informed the poem. Or then again, I\u2019d seen the film, \u2018The King\u2019s Speech\u2019 which might have worked its way in with whales. I imagine a lot of poets work in this subconscious fashion.\u201d \u00a0 <\/em>~ Frankie McMillan<\/p>\n

—<\/p>\n

About The Poet:<\/h3>\n

\"NoHorsesCover\"<\/a>Frankie McMillan<\/strong> is the author of The Bag Lady\u2019s Picnic and other stories<\/strong>,<\/em> and a poetry collection, Dressing for the Cannibals<\/em><\/strong>. In 2005 she was awarded the Creative NZ Todd Bursary. In 2008 and 2009 her work was selected for the Best NZ Fiction<\/strong> anthologies. Other awards include winner of the New Zealand Poetry Society International Competition (2009) and the NZ National Flash Fiction award (2013). In 2014 she held an Ursula Bethell writing residency at Canterbury University. Her second book of poetry, There Are No Horses in Heaven<\/em><\/strong> was published by Canterbury University Press in March, 2015.<\/p>\n

\u2014<\/p>\n

\"TuesPoem\"<\/a>To read the featured poem on the Tuesday Poem Hub<\/strong> and other great poems from fellow Tuesday poets from around the world, click here<\/strong><\/a>.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

My father, the oceanographer . knew the language of whales yet tripped over the sound of his own name They say the cure for death is drowning and for a lisp a bucket of salt water —- In white gumboots he entered the stomach of a whale sat brooding under the great arched bones of […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[6],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-29474","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/29474","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=29474"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/29474\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":29477,"href":"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/29474\/revisions\/29477"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=29474"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=29474"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=29474"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}