In the shell of my refine taste
polished by years
and yet covered with barnacles
my silky unsegmented self
lays comfortably.
I am well-nourished in my habitat,
read William Carlos Williams
and listen to Bach.
But what if the shell cracks?
Red wheelbarrow glazed by rain
neatly parked near white chickens
will roll away.
And I will see it
on the way to the local market
pushed by
the twiggy arms of an African boy
and his younger brother
tagging along
with their thirty-five year old
grandmother.
Or at night
it will be hiding a stray
from the rain.
Or carrying its weight
through buildings' debris and dust,
it will be saving lives.
Or maybe it will
wheel into the world
of the cultured and rich,
into the gardening project
of an opera singer
who lost her voice due to
the promising nothing chemo.
Or in the schoolyard
it will get hit by a bullet
right into the red belly full of mulch.
And in one in a million chance,
I will find it again
neatly parked on the ranch
next to white chickens.
Comments
Hi IRiz
I liked the way your have captured the journey of your mind let loose from a comfort zone to those people and places you would like to visit and then your mind returns home to compare it with your own and leave the reader to imagine if you feel good for what you are blessed with or feel bad for those who are not so lucky in the world we live....
at least that is the way i perceived it ...i could be right or totally off track...
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Raj,
Raj,
Thank you for reading and giving a very pertinent comment. I think your interpretation is good.
The journey of...
the red wheelbarrow! I like it! You have some great lines here and I will tell you some that struck me in particular.
polished by years, [but] yet covered by barnacles [I would delete yet covered] and use the shorter [but]. But... it's your poem.
tagging along with their thirty-five year old grandmother
right into the red belly full of mulch [delete the lines about dangerous schools, you already put forth the idea that schools are dangerous these days, just by inclusion of the word schoolyard.
an opera singer who lost her voice due to the promising nothing of chemo.
Some great lines! ~ Geezer.
.
Dear Geezer, thank you for
Dear Geezer, thank you for reading and correcting my English. I used some of your suggestions in the edited text.
Most of all i am glad you suggested to remove lines strating I never know... I thought about it myself but was not sure.
starting a new word now I c
strating
strating !!!!!
What did I misspell this time
What did I misspell this time?
poet Iriz
you didn't miss-spell nothing
I learned a new word
in strating
I was only knowledgeable about starting!
u can now
lol me
Oh. Have a good evening, poet
Oh. Have a good evening, poet Lovedly
nice poem, hard to pull off
A unique suggestion toying with the interpretation of the WCW poem, which are many. Volumes worth. (i think you meant detached, not detouched, in the comments)
Interesting to symbolize a clam or mussel with the imagination, (refined taste) protected by a shell unbothered by the unwelcome barnacles.. So if the shell cracks, the aloof comfort of the imagination (Bach) will be exposed to the sadness of reality (Africa, Opera singer loosing voice) as well as acts of good and kindness (saving a dog, saving lives)
But why a one in a million chance to find that zone again?
I would like to suggest the wheelbarrow will "roll away." The idea of the wheelbarrow taking human or animal form to run away is confusing. (It can "wheel into the world", that verb works)
Personally I do not prefer the Africa stanza, twiggy arms and age of the grandmother makes the statement too socio-economic and pulls me away from the inherent metaphysics in the poem. It's too far away, it is it's own poem. Rather it be closer to home, perhaps something more personal
like the opera singer has in the poem, although I question the "promise nothing chemo" as again pulling us away from the theme.
This is a very difficult poem, but there is a there there. The combinations of important elements in the poem- the shell, the actual wheel barrow poem itself, it is an intellectual adventure, one that is deeply felt by you but I think will change considerably as you live with it longer, and revise and edit. It's a good start, and does engage the reader to reconsider the WCW poem in different terms...your terms.
..
Thank you dear Eumolpus,
Thank you dear Eumolpus,
You interpretation is right on a spot.
I wonder if run away in a sense of runaway train will do? What do you think?
I think...
Empy's right, the roll-away is much better.
I'm not sure that the other line that he spoke of, is too socioeconomic.
I think that is just the way that he interpreted that line. I saw the image of the scrawny little kid as that, but more; I saw the wheelbarrow as an aid to his life. ~ Geezer.
.
I think...
Empy's right, the roll-away is much better.
I'm not sure that the other line that he spoke of, is too socioeconomic.
I think that is just the way that he interpreted that line. I saw the image of the scrawny little kid as that, but more; I saw the wheelbarrow as an aid to his life. ~ Geezer.
.
Hello Geezer,
Hello Geezer,
Yes I agree, to roll is more appropriate verb.
Thank you for your comment again.
I am trying to be less pastoral (lol) if you now what I mean.
I travel a lot so the images I brought up are usually first hand experience. I plan to keep them as is.
I love this idea, of taking
I love this idea, of taking an established poem and "cracking the shell", adding onto it, taking the poem in another direction, that enhances or questions or explains further the original poem. I've never seen something like that. it's interesting that you put a bullet through the wheelbarrow, like you were somehow killing WCW's poem, perhaps. lol. something so hallowed in the hall of poetry. very fun read.
Hm , interesting
Hm , interesting interpretation.
The bullet is there for school shootings.
I talked about a touch of reality through the crack in my shell. Thank you for reading and giving your impression, dear Gregwa8.