I am the blue porcelain bowl
got in China
with a chip inside
rim of my bottom ring
only I know it's there
there was a defect
in firing when I was
made -- left a fissure
so small it went unnoticed
lady from San Francisco
who bought me in Guangdong
brought me home
never noticed invisible crack
under me
on trans-Pacific voyage
a little piece fell off --
packing box never told
about sliver of blue
unpacking in townhouse
by the Bay I was set on a table --
I am filled with rose petals
from time to time
and I am content
there is no beauty without
a flaw.
Comments
Interesting...
I am wondering if the choppy, telegrammatic lines are meant to simulate 'Chinese English' (for lack of a better term) that we see on tv or even on the street. I reading your poem and it give funny feel. Like English not my first language... imported just like porcelain bowl. Make it hard to read, is that what you do?
Kidding aside, after realising it wasn't bad grammar or usage (as compared against your other works) I began wondering. The last 5 lines are beautiful and flow from the tongue quite elegantly.
Interesting remarks. When I
Interesting remarks. When I read this piece aloud it flows right along, at least for me. Your comments made me smile. I don't write to make my poetry difficult to read, at least not intentionally. I just prefer to not use definite and indefinite articles, if they can be avoided.
Thank you so much for the read, and the comments.
Victor
This is so much a favourite,
This is so much a favourite, that I actually remember it, Victor. I can almost recite your poem now as if it were mine. ;-)
~A
Thank you, Anna. I did drag
Thank you, Anna. I did drag this out of storage, and dusted it off to post. I am pleased that you recall it with fondness.
Ciao,
Victor
Shirley,
Shirley,
Thank you so very much. I tried to write this as gently as possible. I mean, after all the poor bowl was already chipped~! If it powerful too, I am doubly pleased that you liked it.
Love,
Victor
Rosina,
Rosina,
Something about the flaws that I just can't stop looking at. Most of them are quite beautiful.
Thank you,
Victor
Victor
Initially, I was kind of in agreement with cryptic, until I stopped reading the comments, went back and read your poem again, this time aloud.
I found an intense feeling of zen as I spoke this, that quality of divinity and mystery of the present within the ordinary and mundane. And aloud, it really does sound like a some ordinary object talking about its birth and journey, not just because of the word choices you make, but through the cadence and rhythym.
With the style you've used, the voice becomes sparse, matter-of-fact yet rich and unique.
And the last lines give it a soul.
Simple, deep, and very good, I bookmarked this one.
Un signore di mille
Un signore di mille ringraziamenti!!
Grazie molto!
Victor
Jayne, my dear lady,
Jayne, my dear lady,
I am pleased that you recall this little piece.
I am glad you enjoyed it again.
Love,
Victor