The ancestral smile
As the momentum builds,
the air increasingly glides through your fingers
until, Wham!
Your palms collide.
As soon as you can peel your hands off of each other,
Wham! Wham!… Wham!
Again, you repeat
with great apelike movements.
A primitive means to communicate indeed,
Your hands red and stinging, yet a grin,
following the air between your fingertips
an ancestral smile lights up your face.
I wrote this poem in response to “The Unskilled Poet’s” challenge - write a poem relating to the word ‘clap.’
24. January 2008 um 13:39
Nice!! I love the use of onomatopoeia and the clever way you’ve broken down the action of clapping into the most basic elements - the air gliding through fingers, the joy one feels at creating sound. Thank you for joining in!
The Unskilled Poet’s last blog post..Daily Spark Word: Clap
24. January 2008 um 13:57
Thanks, “Unskilled Poet,” I’m glad you like it. I thought this was the perfect time to use some onomatopoeia’s. It was kind of difficult to decide just which one to use though. I enjoyed pointing out that clapping seems like it might be a primitive behavior as it can also be found in apes and our ancestors.
24. January 2008 um 18:44
explosion, emotion all at one’s finger tips…sounds All Good…blue
31. January 2008 um 06:43
Really interesting, Travis. It made so much more sense once I knew it was about clapping ;) . I like the implied contradiction in one grinning while their hands are red and stinging.
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2. February 2008 um 23:18
Nice! i like the way you described the hands motioning toward each other until clapped. While i read your poem i could see the hands closing in slow motion in my head. Great poem
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