Pantoum - By Max du Toit

Written By: Max du Toit

Category: Poetry

Competition: Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026

In the Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026, Max du Toit presents "Pantoum," a poignant piece that delves into the mythological story of Sisyphus. Through the structured and repetitive form of a pantoum, the poem explores themes of struggle and perseverance. As a participant in this prestigious event, du Toit offers readers a glimpse into the eternal toil of a legendary character, capturing the essence of human endurance and resilience.

About the Work

"Pantoum" by Max du Toit is a masterful exploration of Sisyphus's ceaseless endeavor, vividly portraying the mythic struggle with a boulder. The poem's imagery is rich and tactile, painting a world of labor and sweat, while its rhythmic structure reinforces the relentless cycle of effort and futility. The pantoum form skillfully mirrors the endless repetition of Sisyphus's plight, immersing readers in a timeless tale of perseverance against insurmountable odds.

Pantoum

Original Submission by Max du Toit

Pantoum

“καὶ μὴν Σίσυϕον…

…κρατὸς ὀρώρει.”

— Homer, The Odyssey, Book XI, Lines 593 – 600

Sunless, the sinews stretch across my back:

I set my shoulder to the cold, hard stone,

And, inching up, my muscles start to crack;

My tendons tighten; braced is every bone.

I set my shoulder to the cold, hard stone:

Rocking the boulder from its resting place,

My tendons tighten; braced is every bone;

Hot sweat has drenched my limbs, from foot to face.

Rocking the boulder from its resting place,

Rocking and straining like a storm-shocked ship,

Hot sweat has drenched my limbs, from foot to face,

Like burning brine that builds the surge and dip.

Rocking and straining like a storm-shocked ship,

I roll the boulder up the lower slope:

Like burning brine that builds the surge and dip,

I strive to leave the ground where spirits grope.

I roll the boulder up the lower slope;

Ascending with each footfall’s half-foot gain

I strive to leave the ground where spirits grope

Darkness: far worse than this, though this has pain.

Ascending with each footfall’s half-foot gain,

The earth is grey and black beneath my feet:

Darkness! Far worse than this, though this has pain,

Though in my head the heart-blood drums its beat.

The earth is grey and black beneath my feet,

Oh! for the black of loamy, sun-rich soils —

Though in my head the heart-blood drums its beat,

My mind remembers gleaming wines and oils.

Oh! for the black of loamy, sun-rich soils:

The yellow golden orbs of apple trees —

My mind remembers gleaming wines and oils —

The waving wheat, the shining, wine-dark seas.

The yellow golden orbs of apple trees!

The scents of memories enliven me:

The waving wheat, the shining, wine-dark seas:

They urge my beating brain from lethargy.

The scents of memories enliven me,

Unlike those meadows, cold with asphodels:

They urge my beating brain from lethargy —

I piston on although each leg rebels.

Unlike those meadows, cold with asphodels,

I see a summit in the shaded air —

I piston on although each leg rebels —

The hilltop is above me, black and bare.

I see a summit in the shaded air —

Splinters are spearing through my arms, my chest;

The hilltop is above me, black and bare —

Those final footholds more, and I would rest.

Splinters are spearing through my arms, my chest;

My tongue is slick with spit, with blood and gall:

Those final footholds more, and I would rest…

I tremble like a fennel stalk, and fall.

My tongue is slick with spit, with blood and gall;

And, as the boulder tumbles down the mound,

I tremble like a fennel stalk, and fall

Across the rocky clods, across the ground.

And as the boulder tumbles down the mound,

I rise, and stagger — stumble at the stone

Across the rocky clods, across the ground.

I grasp the boulder in its hollow throne.

I rise, and stagger — stumble at the stone —

My sweat has turned to ice and slows my stride:

I grasp the boulder in its hollow throne,

My fingers fasten on the slate-grey side.

My sweat has turned to ice and slows my stride:

Sunless, the sinews stretch across my back —

My fingers fasten on the slate-grey side,

And, inching up, my muscles start to crack.

About the Competition

The Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026, hosted by Hashtag Kalakar, celebrates the art of the written word. This worldwide event invites poets, storytellers, and essayists to showcase their creative talents. It provides a platform for diverse voices to express their unique perspectives and narratives, fostering a global community of literary enthusiasts and creators.

We extend our heartfelt thanks to Max du Toit for sharing "Pantoum" with the Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026. This evocative poem offers a fresh perspective on the timeless myth of Sisyphus. We are grateful for your contribution to this literary celebration, and we look forward to more of your insightful work.

About Hashtag Kalakar

Hashtag Kalakar is a creative platform dedicated to providing artists, writers, singers and other creative talents with opportunities to showcase their work and reach wider audiences through competitions, features and creative initiatives.