J'accuse

[miyako73]

Neither an astrologer of inner doubts and lies
Nor a loyal hawker, a peddler of tainted truths,
I speak today not with the slanderer’s tongue
That only knows bitter bile and vomit on its lips.

I accuse the dreaming poets who only utter
Epic love and passion that warms and sweats
And their pens whose words fail to describe
The pain of the mother orphaned with a son.

I accuse the flutists, the composers of melodies,
The makers of cellos, the singers of sad songs
Whose strings and notes do not heal the heart
Broken and bleeding in the silence of the grave.

I accuse the unknown inventors of shy colors,
The painters of soft textures and silhouettes,
Of coy smiles, of pink roses and rosy cheeks,
For I see no wrath, no rage in their subtle reds.

I accuse those who carve dark mahogany lives,
Those who form faces and chisel marble eyes,
Those who cannot sculpt his giggles and titters,
His fingers, the clinging warmth of his fragile arms.

I do not know all of them but the truth concealed
Between their measured thoughts, in their humming,
Behind the subdued glows, in the stillness of wood
That can never bring my baby back—Emile is dead.

[miyako73]

Okay, you have the floor now, Delta. Express your concern with this poem. You know I love comments and critiques because I get valuable tips and lessons from them that can help me polish and revise my works. Now let's talk about J'accuse in the proper thread.


You said:

"To quote a poet:

And their pens whose words fail to describe
The pain of the mother orphaned with a son.

You blame winter and sensitivity for what you have penned."

I answered:

"Are you questioning my usage of "orphaned?". That's intentional. There's a name for children (orphans) who lose their parents but none for parents who lose their children. Thus, I borrowed "orphaned.""

You said:

"Lol. I think I made my point about your ability in #17"

Line 17 is: "I accuse those who carve dark mahogany lives,"

My answer:

Since you want to put down myself using what I write without understanding them, let me explain. "I accuse those who carve dark mahogany lives," was intentionally written as such so it would have two meanings: sculptors carving mahogany statues and sculptors leading dark, hard lives. I initially wrote "I accuse those who carve dark mahogany statues," but found it simple and incomplete. The line 17 you said will lead you to the authenticity of this poem. The mother (the author blaming and accusing her self) and the dead son (death of youth and vitality) are just metaphors. The people accused are metaphors for a single person who has those talents but useless, and she's getting old. You want authenticity? I give you authenticity.

Yes, "Emile is dead" is related to the death of youth and vitality and the death of uprightness and fairness (of Emile Zola and of the author-as I am contemplating now on making money by any means necessary). I don't usually explain my poems, but I'm proud of this work. So there you go. It's an autobiographical work dealing with useless talents, hard life, self-blame, and yeah, ageing (I'll be 40 in a few years).

If you find those three lines you mentioned poorly written, I apologize. Those are the best lines my pitiful mind could come up with.