Thanks very much, Rick, and I see what you mean about 'begins'- good point. 
I like the idea too of making the poem more a long-held breathy business. 
Thanks for both these helpful comments.
I have done a second draft of a poem on the same subject where the diving 
becomes a metaphor for finding somethimg more spiritual but that is not 
working out too well; might be better off keeping it simple!
I believe that pearl-divers genuinely did have 'boss-men' to take their 
catch from them, and the diver received very little payment. It's a 
fascinating subject, think I'll be down there for some time yet!!
warmest good wishes,
Gill
----- Original Message ----- 
From: "Richard Kempa" <[log in to unmask]>
To: <[log in to unmask]>
Sent: Friday, May 18, 2007 5:30 AM
Subject: Re: new post from Gill


Hello Gil.  I thought this was a really nice poem--exquisite underwater 
imagery and a really striking line, "the underwater Eden of his everyday." 
I like how he is transformed, first into a surface for light and shadow to 
play upon, then into an eel, and then at last into a man with a tool.

I wonder, is he holding his breath?  seems like the strain and effort of 
doing so should be a part of it, both literally and metaphorically.

I thought your note--the uncertainty of what you want to make it into--was 
interesting. I am guessing that if you make it "less about pearl diving but 
more about finding what we need," that maybe the "boss man"--who really ties 
the poem to the literal diving activity--would go.  (It's funny, too, how 
that one word makes this a "class poem"!) Then you'd have him on the beach 
alone with his harvest.  What does he (or any of us) NEED?  That's a heck of 
a question.

On the micro level, it seems that "begins"--while it fits the meter, doesn't 
perfectly fit, because of course he does more than begin.

Thanks.  This was a pleasure to read.

Rick Kempa
Rock Springs, Wyoming


-----Original Message-----
From: The Pennine Poetry Works on behalf of Gill McEvoy
Sent: Tue 5/15/2007 9:57 AM
To: [log in to unmask]
Subject: new post from Gill

Hi everyone, just to see if  there's life out there/.
This poem is not finished yet, but I'll post it anyway as I'm not sure 
whether to make into a more wide-ranging thing, less about pearl diving but 
more about finding what we need...
I would be very grateful for any comments.


Pearl-diver

His eyes clear as he dives; he sees,
approaching through the grey like figures in a fog,
strange plants and trees, the underwater Eden
of his everyday. Overhead a plate of light
tilts with the lift and fall of sea:
he's turned to ripples, shadows,
pale flesh jellied, trembling.
He slips in and out of thick stemmed weed,
an eel of limb and muscle, reaches
out a hand at last and feels the rasp,
the rough stone curve of shells, and with his knife
begins to hack them from their base.
Some will hold the tiny grain of sand
that has become the pearl. Back on the beach
he'll watch the boss-man split the shells,
marvel at that silver gleam of light inside,
clutch his own small gleam of coin in frozen hands.

Gill McEvoy


Best wishes to everyone.



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