Wednesday, February 01, 2006

"Hologram Roses"

Hologram Roses


~ for my mother, Rose



You were a shattered mirror,
disaster in the state
of disrepair -- the kitchen sink,
languorous with buzzings
and the swift shadows
on the plastic counters.

Heaven didn't reward you.
Fate saw it through.
Your thinking of a future
banned at the gate,
the sensuous censors
of a young girl's treason.

You loved like that, lived
a paper trail of debt & dues,
discovered a continent
of flay and flaw. And leapt.
Into your past, heart-first:
a trailing meteor, a lit ember,
a hologram rose.

7 comments:

luc u! said...

You loved like that, lived
a paper trail of debt & dues,
discovered a continent
of flay and flaw. And leapt.
Into your past, heart-first:
a trailing meteor, a lit ember,
a hologram rose.



that is just a WONDERFUL vision, beautiful, reckless yet ordered...

Michael Parker said...

I like this very much.

RC said...

Love the three stanzas as images.

Michelle e o said...

Beautiful

Jill said...

i like this too...

very strong emotions..also poignant.

H. W. Alexy said...

This is a great poem, enjoyed and related.

I wonder if it would be a calmer, more reflective poem with longer sentences throughout and the loss of an article or two.

Helm.

Lorna Dee Cervantes said...

Thank you all for the kind words about my poem.

H: Thank you, especially, for the crit. This is a "7 minute poem", that is, the title came out of a hat in my workshop & we had 7 minutes to write. In my new book, there's a book of them, all spontaneous and unedited with given titles/ subjects. Now that that book's done, I'm not bound by the unediting part -- the "play" part. But they're like the results of Zen practice.

My mother's name was Rose. The other day I talked about the poem in workshop, about how I used the energy of the emotion to "spin the wheel" so to speak, like a potter's wheel whereby the task is to hold the bodymind steady like the potter's hands -- or you'll collapse the pot. This is a poem I could only write in 7 minutes; I have tried to write one like it for 30 years. But it's not a poem I could ever write through the neo-cortex. Just in this approach to play -- I could have thrown it away -- and mere attention to the integrity of the single line.

Thanks, H, for the comments on line-breaks, this is what I wasn't changing in selecting them for the book. In this one, I became committed to the 5-line stanza. The last 2 lines were originally one long line, but it looked too weird on the blogger page to go with it. I'll try it with a different lineation and slight purge of words.

Thanks!