A Request

[Bar22do]

1. Mom's Notes

The gravel path of our grove,
in the leaves’ dew -
light effusion
absorbed by the shadow
of the other slope.

The insuperable silence
of your voice –
like a vacant stare of time -
impregnated with a mynah’s call
over the rubble of years
covering with weeds.

2. Dad Speaks

A sword of light cuts through the trees;
hide in the scrub, my boy, it’s not time,
no. You must yet corral the beads
of your nows and tomorrows into
one rich pomegranate.

When the years bend you to their weight,
butterflies are small for your sight,
when the music stops and hopes
crashed down on your feet impede your path,
I will take you. But now, see,

the sun casts furiously for the vanished day!
Run home, cry in mom's ineffable embrace.
At night, your eager mouth
blowing words into dream balloons,
I will make them angels winged with faith;
just snuggle up to her first, son,
only you can.

3. My Cheeks

Dad would always say about me
"my boy with cheeks red like apples",
mom would knit her brows
and smile at both, dad and me,
her wooden spoon and cotton apron sticky
with jam she made. Today,

my cheeks ache inside and burn -
a bird of silence made off with my dad
and mom takes lonely walks in our grove;
at times, I search for the bird, but only hear
echoes of words
my father, in a hide, seems to utter.
Though it may just be in my head.


(Jerusalem, March 2012)

[MystyrMystyry]

Exploding with imagery Bar22do! :)

I just woke up, so I'll get back to this - but so far excellent :)

[PrinceMyshkin]

....corral the beads
of your nows and tomorrows into
one rich pomegranate.



is splendid!

[Bar22do]

Thank you Mystyr! and Prince!

[AuntShecky]

Another enigma from Bar!

I can picture the pomegrante, packed w. seeds, but "beads"? What could they stand for? "Nows" and "tomorrows" I think I get. "Corral"--nice action verb, meaning to herd together animals (such as horses) into a circumscribed, fenced area, a "corral."

Second stanza (strophe) is straightforward enough for me ol' addled brain.
Nice metaphors for the changing priorities when childhood makes the transition into adulthood" "when butterflies become too small to see."

Last stanza perplexes me as well. The words and balloons metaphor is a nice one. These lines befuddle me:

just snuggle up to her first, son,
only you can.

Just snuggle up to her first (first what?) Or does it mean do this first and
something else later? And "only you can" what?

Everything is so economically condensed and distilled that I'm missing something. I know the fault's with my own limitations and not at all with your work.

Wish I were more perceptive so I could better see the rich treasures buried in your beautiful words, because they are beautiful.

[cafolini]

Another enigma from Bar!

I can picture the pomegrante, packed w. seeds, but "beads"? "nows" and "tomorrows" I think I get. What could they stand for? "Corral"--nice action verb, meaning to herd together animals (such as horses) into a circumscribed, fenced area, a "corral."

Second stanza (strophe) is straightforward enough for me ol' addled brain.
Nice metaphors for the changing priorities when childhood makes the transition into adulthood" "when butterflies become too small to see."

Last stanza perplexes me as well. The words and balloons metaphor is a nice one. These lines befuddle me:


Just snuggle up to her first (first what?) Or does it mean do this first and
something else later? And "only you can" what?

Everything is so economically condensed and distilled that I'm missing something. I know the fault's with my own limitations and not at all with your work.

Wish I were more perceptive so I could better see the rich treasures buried in your beautiful words, because they are beautiful.

Philosophizing with a hammer. You surprise me sometimes. :crash:

[AuntShecky]

Oh, crap. I don't even know what "philosophizing with a hammer" means! ( Logging off
now, for everyone's benefit!)

[Maximilianus]

It is a writing that certainly puts the brain to work :nod:


I can picture the pomegranate, packed w. seeds, but "beads"? What could they stand for?
Linguistically speaking, the word "bead" represents not only any small round object similar to a seed. It is also used to represent a knowledge sufficient to direct one's actions to a purpose. I therefore humbly interpret "the beads of your nows and tomorrows" as the knowledge to be acquired between the present and the future yet to come. One more example of the use of the word "bead" in this sense could be "We now have a bead on the main technical issues of this project."


Just snuggle up to her first (first what?) Or does it mean do this first and something else later?
I think Bar refers to the first signs of night.


And "only you can" what?
I believe it means that only a boy, still a creature with a relatively clean conscience, can snuggle up to the first signs of night in such a way that night won't capture him. In my humble understanding the writer is asking the boy to override the powers of night by snuggling up to it, considering night as a metaphor for death. I wonder if I'm not overthinking about this, but it's my humble interpretation... now I'll scratch the brains for a while http://smiles.kolobok.us/standart/scratch_one-s_head.gif

[Bar22do]

Ah, my poor "request"... Dear Auntie, I play with fire whenever I write and more often than not bury the meaning where I try to convey it..., though I can assure you I do my best! (ah, and the pomegranate is the symbol of abundance and life's fulness) - so sorry to have given you a headache!

cafolini, who is philosophizing with hammer? me or Auntie? you know, I think I realize I wasn't enough transparent in this poem... am grateful for your reading and active response!

Maximilianus, you have given so much good thought and intuition to my little offering! it's true I believed "beads" had a broader meaning, as also "corral," but I do not always feel the language properly/adequately, it is one of the reasons why I expose my pieces to critique or workshopping; I'm dependent on feedbacks to improve... so grateful for yours.

Perhaps it wasn't fair of me to have posted this one alone (but I didn't want to overburden one post!), while it is part two (the first being "Morning Notes") of three pieces sequence about one (mourning) family. So -
follow the three pieces together, perhaps it will be clearer this way for who will have the patience to go through! or maybe not.
Life is a permanent bet.

Thank you all for your time and comments!

1. Mom's Notes

The gravel path of our grove,
in the leaves’ dew -
light effusion
absorbed by the shadow
of the other slope.

The insuperable silence
of your voice –
like a vacant stare of time -
impregnated with a mynah’s call
over the rubble of years
covering with weeds.

2. Dad Speaks

A sword of light cuts through the trees;
hide in the scrub, my boy, it’s not time,
no. You must yet corral the beads
of your nows and tomorrows into
one rich pomegranate.

When the years bend you to their weight,
butterflies are small for your sight,
when the music stops and hopes
crashed down on your feet impede your path,
I will take you. But now, see,

the sun casts furiously for the vanished day!
Run home, cry in mom's ineffable embrace.
At night, your eager mouth
blowing words into dream balloons,
I will make them angels winged with faith;
just snuggle up to her first, son,
only you can.

3. My Cheeks

Dad would always say about me
"my boy with cheeks red like apples",
mom would knit her brows
and smile at both, dad and me,
her wooden spoon and cotton apron sticky
with jam she made. Today,

my cheeks ache inside and burn -
a bird of silence made off with my dad
and mom takes lonely walks in our grove;
at times, I search for the bird, but only hear
echoes of words
my father, in a hide, seems to utter.
Though it may just be in my head.


(Jerusalem, March 2012)

[AuntShecky]

Bar, it's always, always good to take risks and follow one's own artistic vision. That some obtuse reader(namely yours fooly) doesn't "get" it right off the bat, that is, or shouldn't be, no skin off your nose.

Actually, this latest triad of short poems really clears up my initial misunderstanding. I'm so sorry I was so dense the other day.

[Bar22do]

No Dear Auntie, one doesn't need to break one's head to grasp poetry and if one does, the author, not the reader is in doubt. But thank you for your elegant reassurance. And be very well! :)

[Delta40]

Dearest Bar, dense or not, your poems lift the reader and take them to a another place, landing them gently so they can touch your soil, and experience the wonder of having never been there before. x

[Bar22do]

Thanks a lot, Delta.

[Haunted]

Ahh, heart wrenching, to hear them talk to each other when they no longer can be together in the same world again. And such sorrow: mom off wandering in the silent grove; dad trying to explain to his child to carry on without him because it's not his time yet; and the child's furtive search for the little bird that took off with his father's soul.

The pairing of diction is superlative. The irony of "impregnated with a mynah’s call" in Mom's notes; Dad with the masculine image of "A drawn sword of light"; and the young child's experiences, "before" and "after".

This is one of the most moving and memorable pieces I've ever read. Take care yourself Bar.

[Maximilianus]

Still feels complete to me, both as a standalone and as part two of three :) Keep up the good writing Bar!

[Bar22do]

Thank you Haunted, your careful reading always gives hope. Thanks a lot Maximilianus for visiting this thread again. Much, much appreciated!

[Maximilianus]

Welcome! http://smiles.kolobok.us/personal/hi.gif