In the realm of pomegranate
we are believed to be children
of the mythical fruit. Indeed.
Open it!
You search for the seeds:
embryos in the fleshy womb
the color of blood
to become later fruits of consumption.
But the children from the old myth were not born of the pomegranate. They were born of drought and Demeter's fury. Children were born of the gods 'fear of emptiness, they were to suffer in the absence of tithing. Born of destruction…
…and where are now
the invisible children of disaster?
Dark rains (Chernobyl Hiroshima)
Bhopal- deadly gases
The unborn children of the forty millions nine hundred sixty-eight thousands dead ( in the wars of the 20th century).
...another said two hundred millions almost, if one counts all dead in conflicts we haven't denominated as war ...
Never to be born children of mothers jumping of the windows of the Triangle building during the Fire of 1911 because their bosses locked the doors : you shan't leave here unless you are done or dead.
Not even in the realm of pomegranates
were we safe. This land were each had mother and father,
and a heart to hold in front of a just God.
Not even in our washed blue
dresses we saw//our hands in our mothers hands
for school: Old Order Amish Nickel Mines.
This draws from this readwritepoem prompt, a 2x3x7 poem about Bhopal, the remembrance of Frenkel waltzing with Bashir , O. 's post about memory and all other stories of human misery...
and if you did not knew it already, Western Pennsylvania was always a very good place for the pomegranate...
20 comments:
Oh. Oh...
...
Not even in the realm of pomegranates
were we safe. This land were each has mother and father,
and a heart to hold in front of a just God.
So powerful!
@Paul
thank you. It is a description of Amish country in Western Pa and I guess it's only fair for it was inspired by what one Amish person said in 2006...
Such a powerful question, "and where are now / the invisible children of disaster?" The emotion really builds up as the poem progresses.
You see such gravity in the pomegranate. The reader enters an other world realm.
@Francis
thank you, it is a draft, it might be a keeper
@Irene
I'm a little sorry for spoiling the pomegranate. I will keep away from sad movies and books for a while...
Powerful and wonderful message
I'm glad you mentioned the female machinists who were locked in by the bosses.We should write a poem about this.You poem reinforces the very flawed nature of man. The question is.. ratio.Is it a large minority,large majority or small minority,small majority?...anyway it's enough to keep one swimming with the fish in the ocean and avoiding real life as much as possible. Thanks Ana
Wonderful use of the prompt. So powerful.
This is a very powerful poem with the fruit becoming a metaphor for protection against human suffering. There is great sadness and grief expressed in your emotional words. Thank you for sharing this work, Ana.
@Jeeves.
thanks
@Rallentanda
Ok, than we shall write a poem about those ladies...
the problem is that reality tends to struck you right in your face when you expect it less, especially if you were trying to pretend it ain’t there. The first time I read about the Triangle fire was in an sweet YA book about immigration I bought for my eldest …
@Anthony
Thank you
@ Linda
Yes, retreat to the womb…
"Not even in the realm of pomegranates
were we safe. This land were each had mother and father,
and a heart to hold in front of a just God."
My fave lines. Thanks.
@Rethabile
thank you. It still needs much work , I am wondering if I should use "this land where" or "this lands were// we each had mother and father" .For now it is just a typo that gives the reader a chance to contribute to the interpretation of the line. I am glad you liked it though...
This is a strong poem, not in the least because you manage to mix strong political ideas and commentary in with provocative imagery and a substantial metaphor. The pomegranate becomes with its red ovary like seeds the world rending and devouring its own children epoch after epoch, a constant even as systems, concepts, civilizations, religions, arise, change and fade.
Who ever thought an idea so powerful as this could have emerged from a metaphorical pomegrenate?
Beautiful...
Amazing words that came from your view of the pomegranate. Strong!
@Iddy,
thank you for visiting.That was a powerful pomegranate considering what it did to Persephone...
@Tumblewords
thank you
I love the way this begins. An invitation to darkness and horror. I didn't know about that 1911 fire; how awful. Nice work on the poem.
@James,
I should have avoided dark, serious readings/movies beforehand. But I am glad that in spite of its darkness people still took the time to read it...
I'm grateful you made of the pomegranate what you did. The pairing of poems, the prose, heightened the images, and for me the key was "consumption," a provocative word with many meanings.
The 1911 disaster has given many stories & poems, as it should. I have a book somewhere with billowing dresses on fire. Must recall who wrote it. I think we read it for Jessica's poetry book club a year or two ago...hmmm.
Deb,
thank you for the comment.
yes, there is an entire website about the 1911 event, it was quite a tragedy -one of the many that could have been prevented if the bosses were not to greedy...
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