Blondin Performing a Stunt on the Tightrope at Niagara Falls, 1860. Image courtesy of the Library of Congress
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Source: Ryan Boggs, 2026
This poem won an Honourable Mention in the Niagara Falls Poetry Project 25th Anniversary Poetry Competition. It will be published with all the other entrants in a print anthology to be published by Phylum Press. To reserve a copy of the anthology please email aporteus@niagarapoetry.ca. A companion volume exploring the poetry over 6 centuries will also soon be available, and may be reserved ahead of time.
Ryan Boggs is a writer and teacher living in southern Ontario
Listen to Kimiko Hahn performing “Maud Willard and Her Niagara Falls Stunt, 1901”
Maud Willard With Barrel
The barrel with Maud and her dog
shoots into the rapids’ familiar tossing
then to a swirling of strange currents.
Into the whirlpool, they sink from sight,
sucked into its merciless depths.
The barrel with Maud and her dog
then springs from the maelstrom,
courses far from tourists on shore
in the swirling of strange currents.
Now dark–a search light into the gorge
illuminates the thrashing waves and
the barrel with Maud and her dog.
Five hours–the woman’s been imprisoned
in the rolling, revolving waters
till from that strange swirl of currents
the men catch the cask though only the pet
—nose seen in an air hole—leaps out.
The Tale of Daredevil Maud and Her Dog
is still strangely swirling. And current.
Source: Kimiko Hahn, 2026
Kimiko Hahn, New York State Poet Laureate, wrote and performed this poem for the Niagara Falls Poetry Project’s 25th Anniversary, where it was featured at the April 9, 2026 event launching the Poetry Contest. Click here for information about the contest and the event.
The Casket of George Stathakis, After His Fatal Attempt to go Over Niagara Falls in a Barrel, July 5, 1930. Photo courtesy of Niagara Falls Public Library
Jumpers and boaters and fame-hungry fools
end up in the gorge, in the eddies and pools,
or spattered on stone, or locked in the ice.
There’s no way to die here the sane would call nice.
Source: T. W. Kriner, 2025. First published in T.W. Kriner. The Red Pill and Other Poems. Buffalo: J & J Publishing, 2026.
T. W. Kriner is the author of Journeys to the Brink of Doom (1997), In the Mad Water (1999), Twelve Dozen Four-by-Fours (2025), and The Call of Tawiskaro (2025). He lives in a Western New York swamp with his wife and two cats.
Kriner says:
About three years ago I began writing what I call four-by-four poems: four lines with four beats per line, usually with a pair of rhyming couplets. The challenge for me was to do at least one or more of the following in each poem: tell a story; paint a picture; evoke or share a memory; express a political opinion; convey my view on a particular subject; do something else while trying to get a laugh. I’ve recently posted a fair number of them at All Poetry .com, if you’d care to sample.
I once met the man. We spoke for a bit.
He autographed something. That was pretty much it.
He went over Niagara once and lived.
On his second attempt, the poor guy got shivved.
The note reads: To Ted Kriner: a great historian who knows the true spirit of the falls. I trust we will meet again together we will unlock the secrets of Niagara. Your friend Kirk Jones, Niagara Falls Survivor
Jesse W. Sharp Going Over Niagara Falls in His Kayak. June 5, 1990. Photographer unknown. Image courtesy of Niagara Falls Public Library
Down through
The rapids above the falls he
comes floating, kayak like a blunt
arrow, a twig, a hollow stick, him waist-
up from the center paddling, the white noise
of falling water thrashing the air. People
running along the shore as if in a dream,
arms waving, tiny mouths shouting
without sound. He imagines cameras
pointing, himself on millions of television
screens around the world—gets hung up
on rocks, lifts himself heart thudding
awkwardly out, has legs again, pulls
the kayak clear, settles into it, shoots
forward toward the lip, paddle digging
water jumping to bare arms and chest, imagining
himself sailing clear, beyond the rocks, down,
down, triumphant—lifts the paddle
over his head, whirling it in salute
as he hits the edge, thinks
I’m going to make it! sees
the open maw of the gorge, mist, sunlight
on the far side, sees he’s not sailing clear
realizes the weight of bad judgement
the error of imagination, tons
of water, heavier than shame.
Source: E. R. Baxter III. Niagara Lost and Found: New and Selected Poems. Yarmouthport, MA: Abyss Publications, 2013.
