This is my first post here. I hope it's cool that I just post a poem. I'm enjoying reading on this blog...thanks for inviting me.
Lee Herrick
GHOST IN A MUSEUM
after Baca Flor, Lima, Peru
The ghost of Carlos Baca Flor sighs
near the tall arches, the climbing windows stained
centuries ago, literally ages—-Bronze, Middle,
Stone. And the woman at the café counter
sighs, reads Monday’s news of Peru. A young boy
sweeps. Hardly any dust here. And there,
over by the window,
a woman thinks.
What dreams did Manuel Ortega have
the night he finished a painting? In my daydream,
the ghost of Carlos Baca Flor stands
near the tall arches.
Do you go to a museum to fall in love,
to forget, or to float?
Yes, it is like floating, being in a museum—-
the texture of Uncle Ho’s shirt,
the Lilies.
What would Vincent Van Gogh say to Ho Chi Minh
over coffee in Hue?
Would Van Gogh know more about tanks
than Uncle Ho would of flowers?
And whose self-portraits are most accurate,
the blind or the mad?
What kind of stories will your home tell,
the verandas keep,
those birds rehash into the wind?
Wednesday, July 20, 2005
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9 comments:
Lee
I'm so happy to see you post here. This poem...it's marvelous! This passage, especially..
Do you go to a museum to fall in love,
to forget, or to float?
Yes, it is like floating, being in a museum—-
the texture of Uncle Ho’s shirt,
the Lilies.
and these...
And whose self-portraits are most accurate,
the blind or the mad?
What kind of stories will your home tell,
the verandas keep,
those birds rehash into the wind?
Such fresh images and combinations of words/ideas. They carry me away.
Pris
thanks, Pris. I appreciate your nice feedback!
I like your poem above mine as well!
Lee
poems like this
you can post away
into the next millenia
thank you!
really rich
Thanks, Lee
Lee, I love your poem. The last line is perfect. Beautifully done.
pris, birdie, lorna:
thank you so much for your comments, each of you. I hadn't shown that one to many people yet, but I'm glad i did.
lorna, i love the pictures on your site from your reading at Cody's.
Lee
p.s. If I ever get around to revisiting them, I have some poem drafts about the National Musuem in Ho Chi Minh city, where they have Ho's actual clothing he always wore to every important occasion.
Lee, enjoyed your poem very much. Interesting question you pose -- "Would Van Gogh know more about tanks/than Uncle Ho of flowers?"
As you may be aware, Ho Chi Minh wrote some poetry during his life. I found a half dozen of his poems (translated by Kenneth Rexroth, no less) at the following URL:
http://www.motherbird.com/hochi.html
I haven't figured out how to put an actual link in the Comments box, so I'll put a separate post in the Cafe Cafe main page with the above URL inserted as a weblink, for anyone who's interested in clicking and going there.
Ho Chi Mihn
Lyle,
Thanks. The line about tanks and flowers just came from these images I can't shake---one is simply seeing Van Gogh's "Lilies" in some museum (the Getty maybe) but the other is the image in the central Vietnam town of Hue (pronounced "Hway") where many tanks used in the war are displayed right along the side of a main road. I don't think it would be possible for a poet (at least one with a heightened political sensibility) to be there without having to write about it.
Thank you for the post to his poems. I had forgotten Rexroth translated him. It reminds me of the awesome book I found in Asia: Howl in both English and Mandarin (on opposite sides of the page).
You know the funny thing...I was writing these poems thinkng, "these are weird poems." I wasn't sure where they were coming from. I guess we all have those odd days :)
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