You were a familiar scent,
the way a man will see his hands
and know where they have been; four layers
in the ground
and out of every
human place. Excuses cannot lie.
You were botanical;
the way my mother tilled the ground,
and father aided in her work. I watched,
a stone so firmly fixed in place,
content
so slyly vanishing.
Gravel paced
into windings of a road,
the pagoda where the lawn ran off.
I paced, feet in gravel shoes,
one thought of you like a garland
made of memory.
The land ascends from here,
the River runs into itself;
a bird into the sun,
a man
into his fragrant past
where swollen days were hidden; abaaya covering
the caked on ink
left by strangers,
as a Child. The marks of
adolescent years.
Author notes
"A child's life is like a piece of paper on which every person leaves a mark." -Chinese Proverb
Comments
1 - 15 of 15
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Being raised Muslim, I was totally struck by the title. So that was the lure, "abaaya."
I really love the words, "like a garland made of memory." It reminds me of brides in Bangladesh and much of South Asia, wearing bright marigolds. And then they are taught to forget their past and adopt this new life, of husband and his family alone.
There are a lot of images, feelings that remind me of earth and Asia. Pagoda and the bird/sun remind me of Japan. I love the idea of a lawn running off and pagoda combined.
I am still pondering...but that's a good thing, that means I will read the piece over and over again.
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I am very glad you liked this. Thank you for your nice comment.
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wow. your imagary, as usual, is unusually fantastic.
I always click on your stuff not expecting to understand it, but I think the more I read of you, the realities of what you write seep into me, subconciously.
I get this one. It's so refreshing to read about beautiful childhood memories, and it's not surprising you're a beautiful person. the marks on you are tender. super-real as well...'gravel shoes'. I'm thinking of the sensations right now.
This is a poem, a brave poem that surpasses what I think, to show me what you remember. Fabulous -
What is there left for me to say.Actually I could add that your poetic gift is just bursting and overflowing.I could say this poem was beautiful and breathtaking.I will say I love your poetry because you are one of the best writers out there.I like to think of you as my indie poet,not mainstream.
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Score
OK that's it I am not putting you in competition anymore!
You keep hurting my head and leaving me without words...............so not fair nor is it nice
All I can say is ........yeah what Rae said!
Speechless and in awe!
Darn it I want an autographed copy of your first poetry book
overall score 100........and well deserved indeed!
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Holy cow! I am so flattered. I really am humbled.
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i am going to print this one...
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god... i give up
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Oh my....
you too left me speechless
Score: 100 -
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Wow! I never expected a hundred! Thank you very much.
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sure you didn't. jesus christ. you're incredible. you're a fucking god.
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This is nice, the opening is very effective...
al
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Wonderful!
You have a very unique voice, and I love it. I get more of a mood than a narrative, which is hard for a lot of people to pull of and keep fresh.
Favorite parts:
You were botanical;
feet in gravel shoes,
one thought of you like a garland
made of memory.
into his fragrant past
where swollen days were hidden; abaaya covering
the caked on ink
Great images and tone!
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Thank you very much.
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I see you got in the contest! Great write! I fear you have a better mastery of words than myself at the moment, which is not bad. Sets a goal for me! I love the fifth stanza!
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