First Place | Poetry Writing Contest XLIX
49TH NEW MILLENNIUM AWARD FOR POETRY
Ian Khara Ellasante of Lewiston, Maine for “grandfather: a dialect of water”
Ellasante will receive $1,000, a plaque to mark the success, and publication online and in print.
grandfather: a dialect of water
Ian Khara Ellasante
i had one who fished rivers
through the night
who wept river water
when he said his prayers
my hand on his big knuckled heart
he would say cry with me
this is baptism: walk with me he would say
immerse your heart not your head
i had one who was the colors of the earth
who was all of its crimson clay blues and grey
this is Mississippi River mud he would say
each color in its turn turning the earth
and earth’s engine churning
days and years into the color of his hair
and into the deep shade of earth’s wet bridges
when his lost hair began to return
pray with me he would say
grandchildren i pray for you everyday
long of days grandfather
i want to know
the water memory loosening
a heavy tether in your voice
i had one who grew his hair long and thick
as wavy as a seaport rolling down his back
who had a story about the flood
that saved him and killed him
both in the same night
grandfather who knows the ways of water
and the ways of beauty i want to know
how do you keep a river
rising and surging like this
and why does it overflow you in these tears
come and see me he would say
watch the rain whisper it down from the clouds
let the thunder soften you toward quiet
sit with me he would say
grandfather of open spaces and tall trees
long of memory
long of lung
long of days sunlit and full of rain
how should i plant this seed i want to know
put it in the dirt and it will grow he would say
and keep it there until something becomes
something more
i want to know grandfather
why are we unbraiding
toward the water’s edge
and wait please
i have something more to say
i had one who rose at times with the haste
of a flood rising who at others lingered
like the stretch and stillness of a long drought
speak the ways of water to me grandfather
speak seasons for healing and tempering
like flood following drought following flood
i had one who knew balance and reasons
for unbalance of seeds in seasons
of reaping and then returning and then
i had one who grew quiet
and waited in the flickering light
grandfather sit with me
tell me
i want to know what is over there to see
let me look at you he would say
river banks are not meant to hold
cry with me walk with me
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Ian Khara Ellasante’s poems have appeared in The Feminist Wire, Evening Will Come, Hinchas de Poesía, and cur.ren.cy. Originally from Memphis, Ellasante has also loved living and writing in Tucson, Brooklyn, and most recently southern Maine, where they are an assistant professor at Bates College.
grandfather: a dialect of water © 2020 Ian Khara Ellasante
Thank you for the beautiful words, flowing thoughts, luminescence of memories, the power of words and water. Something about this just makes you better!
Thank you, NMW, for being there and recognizing the beauty and necessity of art.
Juley, thank YOU for these affirmations. In this Time of Corona, the time I spend poring over all the talented writing we receive is more enriching than ever. I’m so pleased that this art is making your corner of the world a little brighter, too!
Absolutely Beautiful ❤️
It is! Thanks for reading, Jennifer, and thanks for the love.
Thank you for this beautiful poem. I like the way you rode it all the way down the river — kept it flowing, until the speaker asks the grandfather to sit down and visit. Very organic and luminous — yes, a prizewinning poem. Congratulations.
Organic and luminous…well said, Mary. Ian’s imagery is spectacular, as is your description. Thank you!
Wonderful
Beautiful, love the rippling and flowing of the words downstream, always going on.
Yes! Sherry, I love this take. A continuing ripple and flow of love and reverence. Thank you for reading and sharing this.
That’s my brother. Very well done. We couldn’t be more proud of you. We love you. That hit the spot. Made your big brother shed a tear or two.
When Ian and I talked, they said our conversation “made my heart do a thing”…and that’s exactly what these comments do to my heart. Y’all are one fortunate family to have had this grandfather and to have each other!
Great peom Ian Khara love it your grandfather would be proud .
This outpouring of family love affirms the power of this poem and makes my heart so full!
This poem really pulled me along. I love the language and imagery, the watery way it flows and flows…
Absolutely, Tresha. I especially loved the use of spacing as metaphor for deep and important conversing between loved ones. Thank you for sharing this.
I hope you are added to the greats of this generation. I look forward to reading more of your work.
This is so good in so many ways. I started my day with Natalie Diaz’ The First Water Is The Body and ended it with grandfather: a dialect of water. What a beautiful day.