April 13, 2016

eating Demeter: a-gone-peddler-information poem in C ......#NaPoWriMo2016



Untitled by William Mortensen 1931
costumed runner at
Giro D Italia


so another glorious Spring day 
replete with burgeoning sprigs of tufted lime green 
shooting up from the depths of Hades has arrived 
in a lying aftermath 
of Persephone's leaving 
her southbound palaces 

the northern climes 
has her mother's vines 
ample and near ready 


however have
three coins 
in a pocket and 
a fountain pen 
how to begin a poem 
about where I end 

if it were 
up to you 
I'd be dead 
and if it were 
up to me 
well I am
not sure 
\about anything 
save for wanting love 
wanting to know it 
wanting to feel it 
wanting to understand 
what being lost 
in it means 

no children 
I have not been 
a good father 
nor a good husband 
to your mother 
and it wouldn't surprise 
you or I
if we rarely see our eyes 
except in the grainy universes 
of shared social media platforms 

anger is not a flower today 
but has strong roots 
just beneath the surface 
of things left unsaid 

best I cry this poem 
all by myself 
and let the salt 
run down my face 
imagine some place pretty 
or at least some where 
failure is not staring me down 
a rabbit hole 
where souls go 
when strung out 
to the thinnest possible margins 
this life held by a thread 
of what once was 
palms full of look what I got for us 
is just a story buried in a magazine 
nobody is going to buy 
but it does fill the rack 
when passersby mill through 
to where they have to be 

I however 
am always going 
to be right here 
selling pieces of myself 
in these poems 
wading the ripe(s) 
while hoping to some day 
stop running for a panacea 
that never arrives 
while accepting poisons 
that do

EJR ©

25 comments:

  1. anger is not a flower today
    but has strong roots
    just beneath the surface
    of things left unsaid

    That's powerful stuff!!

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  2. "how to begin a poem / about where I end" is undoubtedly my favorite line. i love the pulse of this poem - it doesn't flow smoothly, and the line breaks sometimes make it seem like you're searching for words, or hesitating, or faltering. either way it enhances the atmosphere, and contributes to a raw piece.

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    1. I cried writing this ... I wasn't necessarily looking for a rhythm, which I normally do, this time I wanted it to be a bit jarring when reading ... think of some of the hanging dialogue silences and awkward at that in "Who's Afraid Of Virginia Woolf" with Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor ...

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  3. Love this. The way your poem takes mythology and social media into a room and makes them dance with each other is just fantastic. I feel bad for the speaker, even if I'm not sure what kept him from being a good parent or husband. The way his bare his soul speaks of regret, of exploration, or beginnings towards trying to make things better.

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    Replies
    1. Thank You ... all we can do is try sometimes ... despite any self protecting want to do otherwise ...

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  4. Replies
    1. And now I hear Lucy Van Pelt ... thank you for making me laugh ...

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  5. How to begin a poem...So another glorious spring day...and we are then pulled into dark mythology and shallow modern communication, lots of bitterness in this and much sadness. Selling oneself - a tragedy.

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  6. How to begin a poem...So another glorious spring day...and we are then pulled into dark mythology and shallow modern communication, lots of bitterness in this and much sadness. Selling oneself - a tragedy.

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    Replies
    1. Yes an astute observer you are ... felling myself with that love lost and found sword of Damocles ...

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  7. how to begin a poem
    about where I end .... very poignant.

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  8. I specially love this part too:

    anger is not a flower today
    but has strong roots
    just beneath the surface
    of things left unsaid

    Poisoned or not, we all have dreams for that panacea ~ Enjoyed the blending of myth and tech reality ~

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  9. This sounds like you wept a 100 words or more, it raw and vulnerable..selling pieces of yourself or offering them for free? Sometimes it is best to cry out those poems by oneself. I have cried too many time and written too many words...some I share and some I burn...

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    Replies
    1. Thank You ... I incorporated the burning imagery into this morning's write ... so right are thee about the letting go aspects of exposing your raw parts for public consumption

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  10. Man, every time I've opened this, I've cracked-up at the combination of photos. The first one is so gorgeous, so so so so gorgeous. I love it. But the mischief-maker in the second one; man, he is a riot.

    "the northern climes [c smile]
    has her mother's vines
    ample and near ready" ... I love this stanza, especially how it flows into that next "I" line, which then creates "ample and near ready, I ..."

    "how to begin a poem
    about where I end
    if it were
    up to you" ... I love these lines together, without that nasty one that follows. To me, this is romantic ... because wherever you end (or end up) is where you've finally found home. So I feel this quickening heartbeat as I finish these lines, just before I go into the next one and get back to the fact that this is *your* poem, and it is not about being wanted but about being unwanted. But still, it's a little bit about being wanted, even if that's not your focus here.

    "well I am
    not sure
    \about anything" ... I love what you did here with the backslash, creating "well I am not sure about leaning against anything" ... because you're feeling unsteady on your own, but you might be even more scared about the strength of whatever/whomever you might want to lean against ... but still, you can't help it because you really want love

    I like how you didn't insert a comma after "no children," even though you're talking *to* them. You wanted to squeeze out other possible meanings too, like "wanting to understand what being lost in it means: [it means] no children." This gives me a sort of sinking feeling in my stomach. In a lot of ways, you feel like you have to leave your current situation in order to find love. And in leaving, you feel like you are losing your children.

    There are also such things as "no-children," like "indigo children" or "flower children." No-children tell you "no" about everything. They are contrary and difficult to communicate and connect with. I wonder if maybe this is some of what you're feeling. A chasm.

    I do not find your line breaks to be abrupt or jarring; they are not intended to affect the flow. They are supposed to inform the reader of layered meanings. So when you say "no children / I have not been a good father," you are also saying, "no children / I have not been." So many of us feel this way, I think ... that after we start families and have kids, we sort of disappear. At some point, it's sort of inevitable that the longing to "be" is going to take over in some way, forcing the need to be examined and addressed.

    "of shared social media platforms" ... Of course, now I'm picturing you all in platform shoes. ;)

    This is a brilliant micro-poem, all on its own:

    "anger is not a flower today
    but has strong roots
    just beneath the surface
    of things left unsaid"

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  11. "and let the salt" ... Great line break, jamming in additional meaning. (I always think of bloodletting when I read the word "let"; only, draining the body/soul/mind of other things ... here, saltwater/tears ... forced crying, maybe; perhaps just slicing open the skin under your eyes, mutilating your face [figuratively, of course ... but that's how hard you're crying])

    "run down my face
    imagine some place pretty" ... These lines make me picture a tiny you, coming out of your eye sockets, with the tears, and literally *running* (in sneakers) down your face, ready to go off and find somewhere pretty. :)

    "failure is not-staring-me-down" ... This line by itself means that failure would be NOT staring yourself down, examining yourself, having a serious man-to-man with yourself. But you ARE going to do this, because you don't want failure; you want change.

    "a rabbit hole
    where souls go
    when strung out" ... I love this little section about being on drugs.

    "palms full of look what I got for us" ... I love this line. It's heartbreaking, but it's bad-ass poetry.

    "it does fill the rack" ... I love how you just can't help but stick boobs in here. Like, with all the "what's in my hands?" and (dirty) magazine talk; I'm seeing some porn popping out of this section. Then you segue into this, making *yourself* a kind of "naked girl in a mag":

    "I however
    am always going
    to be right here
    selling pieces of myself
    in these poems"

    I love this: "wading [waiting] the ripe(s) / while hoping to[,] some day"

    I like "never-arrives" as a verb. Or even as its own sentence. Never (noun) arrives.

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  12. Your poems always make me think that extra mile.. The weaving of mythology to modern days always make my day (even in reflection).. Like a poem cried, so much more vivid than a bleeding pen. Great work

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    Replies
    1. Appreciate you saying that ... warms to hear such ... connects with intent ...gratitude

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  13. Okay - I read this aloud. Oh my. It has so much to say about the writer's life - whomever the writer is.
    "I
    however have
    three coins
    in a pocket and
    a fountain pen
    how to begin a poem
    about where I end "
    and those lines set it up. And this "if we rarely see our eyes except in the grainy universes
    of shared social media platforms" is a real danger today, isn't it? I see so many young families in a restaurant with every head down, thumbs tapping or fingers swiping or eyes glazed watching -- with no conversation -- no connection.
    The rabbit hole is the danger for many of us -- relationships take relationing - a made-up word that says a lot, right?
    Your writing weaves a journey and the reader's mind follows the thread and you always take us to a place where we go, uh huh -- right. I get that! :)
    This is just a really really good one! Thank you for posting!



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  14. love the way this winds... such a dark conclusion-- yet i can totally identify. Thank you for sharing this with the world.

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  15. This is just loaded, Edward--so many choice phrases. Especially, this one, that caught my attention:
    anger is not a flower today
    but has strong roots
    just beneath the surface
    of things left unsaid

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  16. Amazing. Stellar. I love how real and gut-level this is.

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  17. The last stanza particularly spoke to me: the fate of the poet (or any kind of artist, really).
    I however
    am always going
    to be right here
    selling pieces of myself
    in these poems
    Perhaps not necessarily selling, but revealing - stripping naked perhaps?

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