water-melon-life

[Lumiere]

I know where they're from, the green zebra mother potatoes.
We, with our presidents and poetry, garbage and gardens,
have nothing to do with them, or the cultivating of them.

They grow full in the stomach of the sea until, touched by the sun in July,
the ocean unfurls them from her skin.

They float up the fathoms, break surface with a bob,
are swept into bare human arms, rushed ashore,
carried heavily like emerald-wet elephant eggs across hot sand,
over hills (swollen giant watermelons in grass-wombs),
into towns, cities, villages, valleys: wherever there are naked feet.

In madness of summer ceremony, they are lifted overhead and
SMASHED!
Split into dripping hides!
Sucked - never dry!
Pink jungle icebergs, swallowed!
Juice so thin it moves in and out of buried hands, forearms, mouths, lips, chins!
Black-pooled seeds like little universes apart are
spit out with all the arrogance of land-walkers,
their presidents and their gardens.

. . . but the taste: oh, strange!

Birthed in the Deepest Bed,
they somehow taste of mountain caves
which smell sweet
and will never
be found.

[Virgil]

Very visually engaging. I find this an interesting work. Thanks. :)

[blazeofglory]

I find the poem very intriguing. You seemed to have spoken about something primeval and the way creation began, flourished and the repercussion of all that.

I find such poems very exciting. A poem that says something rising over and above the usual, for we are too much tired of the usual, the mundane thing. Man has an innate passion for beauty and inquisitiveness for something unsaid.

That is why I often delve into some of the different things that say about in a different way. Mythology for instance always thrills me and in mythologies I find something unusually appealing. Since I got in your poem an air of mythology that arrested me

[free]

Your verses wave like the sea, carrying in its arms something undefinable, although you are defining it, all the time, by many unusual combinations of notions. I guess, this is what you wanted to picture. Impressive!

[hillwalker]

A very vivid piece of writing - full of colourful and exotic imagery that suggests primal forces beyond our control. The choice of words is exciting and shows a real feel for the surreal.
A wonderful poem.

[PrinceMyshkin]

Extraordinary poem, are there really such things? If so, you've surely done them justice! There is such a depth of conviction in this and it unfolds beautifully.

[Buh4Bee]

So creative.

[hack]

This is delicious.

[lallison]

I really enjoyed this. It made me think and also think about thinking. Then thinking about that made me hungry, so I sent the maid to the market to buy watermelon. She cut it up and then pick out the seeds. The taste was, oh, strange. Thanks.

[Bar22do]

The end:

Birthed in the Deepest Bed,
they somehow taste of mountain caves
which smell sweet
and will never
be found.

is particularly striking with its message that our universe is and will remain a mystery...

a good poem, Lumiere - thanks - and best rgds - Bar