REVISION II
I stroll through crowds,
awareness unexceptional today,
savouring aromas of ripe watermelons.
Perhaps I’ll take that yellow pumpkin
and a ½ kilo of kiwis?
Is that your face in the market?
Unpredictable, yet constant.
No confrontations.
Profile’s turned away now.
I’ll take the kiwis, Rosa,
then a watermelon and four beets will do.
No pumpkin today.
Did I glimpse your face in the market?
Blue blue eyes,
hairline slightly receding,
trim beard, whimsical air of comedy.
A good likeness, yes.
Right! 10 pesos it is...adiós Rosa,
I’ll hurry back now.
Must check in at 9 a.m.
Why do you hover in the crowds?
In appearance weightless,
you don't beset me;
a sporadic silhouette
amidst resolute shoppers.
A presence in improbable spots:
gestures in queues at the ticket office
(you loved theatre!),
the shape of a head, outlined in dimness.
One gets used to it.
Friendly features come and go:
my eyes devour them,
my heart is a crystal goblet
brimming over with fine reminiscences.
I allow ghosts to visit,
then send them on their way.
Sylvia Evelyn, Bariloche, Argentine Patagonia. 2015.
ORIGINAL
Whose is that face in the market?
I stroll through crowds,
awareness unexceptional today,
eyeing some watermelons.
Perhaps I’ll take that yellow pumpkin
and a ½ kilo of kiwis?
It’s a familiar face. Seen it around.
Profile’s turned away now.
- I’ll take the kiwis, Rosa,
not the pumpkin today,
and I think four beets will do.
Whose is that face in the market?
Blue blue eyes,
hairline slightly receding,
trim beard, whimsical air of comedy.
A good likeness, yes.
- Right! 5 pesos it is...adiós Rosa,
I’ll hurry back now.
Must check in at 9 a.m.
And whose is that face in the market?
Standing your ground,
in appearance weightless,
a sporadic silhouette
amidst resolute shoppers.
I get visits in improbable spots:
a gesture in queues at the ticket office
(you loved theatre!),
the shape of a head, outlined in dimness.
One gets used to it.
Friendly ghosts come and go:
my eyes devour them,
my heart is a crystal goblet
brimming over with fine reminiscences.
I allow ghosts to visit,
then send them on their way.
Sylvia Evelyn, Bariloche, Argentine Patagonia. 2015.
Hi Syl,
It's so good to see a new one from you. I love it!
The title really drew me in (don't we all like a hint of the supernatural!)
On first read I see very little to nit.
Dear Sylvia,
Lovely poem. Nicely set up. It flows beautifully and the imagery is spot on.
I felt as if I was walking through the market with you. I especially like the tone.
It was comforting - not scary. The subject has come to grips with seeing ghosts
and has learned to live with this gift.
Like Eisa, I will come back to give this a closer look but I just wanted you to know
how "cool" it is. Kudos!!!
Luce
I too enjoyed this very much.
I read it as wishful thinking at first; you see appearances in shadows or reflections and compare likeness to those you've lost.
The market stroll is vivid and does take you along.
The repetition of the question whose face it is, reinforces the title and theme very successfully.
These visions could be considered imaginary for those without the gift of this extra sense and therefore it appeals on all levels.
A comforting read, accepting life and death.
Regards,
K
Hi Eira,
Thanks for the thumbs up! I've had little inspiration this year. A stunner...wow!
I'll answer here because I've a problem with the Edit button, as you know.
In my own case, I don't think it's supernatural. Ever since my dearest sons, and now my husband Carlos, died, I've frequently seen shapes, gestures, colours and even objects that bring my lost ones to mind. This poem could be for any of them.
Lately, when I'm at the big supermarket. I actually stretch out my hand to pick yogurts, cookies, even socks or shirts for Carlos. I always stop myself in time, but I still can't help looking at the stuff I used to buy for him. Stupid objects can bring tears to my eyes. I loved spoiling him.
His passing was this year, so my thoughts and dreams mostly circle around him.
But it so happens that I was working on this poem some years back...never satisfied
Tx for the advice, I think I'll remove the dashes.
We'll probably always "see" our loved ones in the crowds. I believe it's to do with the senses, somewhere in our brain. It doesn't happen to my daughter. On the other hand, when she flies her beautiful kites, she says she connects with some higher spheres.
All for now, hugs, Syl***
Hello Luce,
Thanks a lot for your comments. I'm glad I achieved what I was aiming for.
It was not intended to be scary, tho' the title doesn't "tell"... I wanted an everyday tone, not something solemn, as it would not apply to my family life. Well, dunno...I'll leave it at that.
In actual life it's not exactly comforting to see shades of bygone people and moments, still you're quite right that I've come to grips with this sort of gift, or sensibility. Don't know what to call it.
Fact is, I dropped work and studies when my son died, having just obtained my own degree (late bloomer). Went on a long trip with my hubby.
When I returned, I started writing poetry and other things. The diploma hangs on the wall, getting yellowish.
Do come back if you have time, and thanks for the kudos
Sylvia
Hello K,
I'm glad you enjoyed my piece. Well, yes, wishful thinking comes into the picture. These feelings are a mix. It's part of coming to grips with the harshness of reality. Except that I aimed to tone it down. Not make a solemn tribute or anything.
Marketing is where I mostly get these quite powerful glimpses of loss. Probably because it's where we have to think a lot about family member's preferences? Still, they can happen anywhere. As you say, they're not imaginary, or visions, because in that case I would be unable to recognize them as such.
I'm beginning to wonder whether not all people experience these things. I know plenty who don't. Eisa says she does. Maybe it's helpful so as to continue on our appointed path.
Thank you again for your uplifting words.
Sylvia
Greetings, Syl!
It's great to see you writing again. I don't frequently visit this forum, as you know, because I horribly struggle in my rare attempts at free verse.
This if a very thoughtful and thought-provoking piece. In fact on second and third reads it made me wonder what kind of reminiscences my wife might have when I pass from the scene. I've done quite a bit of thinking on such things after the four operations on my right knee this past year and the feeble struggle I've had trying to be active again, constantly fighting depression. At 70 who knows how much longer I'll be around. I am pleased to say that the past couple of weeks I've finally regained (though with difficulty) the ability to walk up and down stairs 'normally'. It's still hard, but it's no longer a monumental chore.
Well, enough of that... sheesh! See what this made me do!
I'm not much of at critiquing FV, but I know what I like, and this is one that I do!
deLightingly, Daniel
Hey Sylvia,
Sorry I didn't get back to this one until now.
First off, I never assume that whatever the writer is writing about has happened to the
writer. I just interpret what I see in the poem. And sometimes there is no one way
to see it - which is usually a good thing.
Now to a closer look of the poem:
Friendly Ghosts
I'm sure it's just me - and this association really tells my age - but I immediately
thought of the American Cartoon "Casper the Family Ghost". I also thought that the
title kind of gave "the store away" too soon. Maybe something like "Glimpses"
or something like that may be better.
Whose is that face in the market?
You're really asking a general question so I'm wondering if the correct usage
should be "Who is that face in the market?"
"Whose" is the possessive of who and I think you would use the word "whose"
to indicate possession like: Whose car is this?
By no means am I a grammar queen but for some reason it doesn't sound quite right
to use "whose is".
I stroll through crowds,
awareness unexceptional today,
eyeing some watermelons.
Perhaps I’ll take that yellow pumpkin
and a ½ kilo of kiwis?
It’s a familiar face. Seen it around.
Profile’s turned away now.
- I’ll take the kiwis, Rosa,
not the pumpkin today,
and I think four beets will do.
Whose is that face in the market?
Blue blue eyes,
hairline slightly receding,
trim beard, whimsical air of comedy.
A good likeness, yes.
- Right! 5 pesos it is...adiós Rosa,
I’ll hurry back now.
Must check in at 9 a.m.
If you're saying that it is "a good likeness, yes" then you're inferring that the
subject knows who it is. Therefore, asking who it is doesn't quite go.
And whose is that face in the market?
Standing your ground,
in appearance weightless,
a sporadic silhouette
amidst resolute shoppers.
I get visits in improbable spots:
a gesture in queues at the ticket office
(you loved theatre!),
the shape of a head, outlined in dimness.
One gets used to it.
I'd make a line break after shoppers. It separate the spirit from the person who is
glimpsing them more clearly.
Friendly ghosts come and go:
my eyes devour them,
my heart is a crystal goblet
brimming over with fine reminiscences.
Great Stanza
I allow ghosts to visit,
then send them on their way.
Like these closing lines especially.
And yes, I believe in spirits. And they can make their presence known in many
ways.
My mom had the habit of peeking into your bedroom to make sure you were ok
and asleep. She did this even when we were grown and visiting her. When she died,
we all stayed at my parents big house during the funeral. The night we buried her,
we all went to our bedrooms to sleep. In the morning everyone reported the same
strange thing. The door would open for a few seconds and then close quietly, as if
someone was peeking in.
Reminds me of the style of William Carlos Williams.
The questioning of identity is counter played to the ordinariness of ordering the market supplies,which is a delightful travelogue to begin with
Hello to you, Daniel!
I apologize for not answering your detailed critique far sooner. You've made some good points. I shall post a Revision asap., taking into account your advice.
I keep telling you rhymers that you can be very helpful in this forum. You can suggest better word usage, alliterations (or not), and last but most important, you can help with inner rhyming words, at random, perhaps. Or end rhymes that rhyme with an inner rhyme. That trick adds musicality to the piece.
This poem may not be suitable for that, but many are.
So don't be 'umble or make excuses, we love you!
I'm so sorry to hear about your bad knee. Four operations in one year...wow... You're brave to tackle the stairs again. I hope you've not had too much pain.
Constant pain brings on depression. But you appear to be getting a lot better, and...70 is a fine age!
Your cheerfulness and jokes will help a lot. Besides, destiny brings many surprises. Life is pure hazard, you cannot know who will be having the reminiscences, OK?
Tx so much for stepping in. It's interesting to know how one's poems move readers in different directions.
Take care, cheers, Syl***
Hi Luce, I should be apologizing for not thanking you sooner for the time you've spent here. Lots of advice for me to mull over. I'll be posting a Revision with your crits in mind.
Wow, greenwich, what a compliment. I would be happy just to approach his style!
Haven't read W.C.W. for years. Now I feel inclined to look him up again, tx!
Yes, those are the ordinary situations when I experience these other-worldly "sightings"...
So glad you like it.
Cheers, Sylvia
Thanks to all of you kind people for making such handy suggestions.
I've used quite a few, but in my own restless fashion, I tweaked a lot more than I'd set out to do.
So I left two ** in case I've botched some new lines.
Cheers, Syl***
Hi Syl,
Great revision!
I've just realised I was going to come back to this with a few comments so I'll just read through again to see if anything comes to me.
Whose is that face in the market?
As you have an idea whose face it is. I wonder if, 'Is that your face .......' might be more direct.
But then you'd have to change the beginning of the next stanza slightly.
I think the repeat in Blue blue eyes, could be better expressed. vivid blue eyes, bright blue eyes or something else.
Just a few thoughts, Syl - TOT!
This is one of my favourite poems!
Hugs
Eira
Hi Syl,
This is a wonderful and mysterious poem. I especially liked the interactive interlude between those detailed and the narrator. I have some simple suggestions below. Please use what may be in line of your intentions, otherwise discard what is not.
Big Hugs, Liz
Hi Sylvia
Very fine poem. You have obviously done a lot of work here and received lots of feedback. The only thing that sort of niggled me was the word "ghosts" appearing in the title and in the last two strophes. I am not sure but I would tend to make them a little more illusive than that (which you do well in the rest of the poem). I guess I would at least remove them (the words) from the poem if they are in the title… we know "they" are there.
Hi Eisa, Liz and Critter,
I apologize for not acknowledging your helpful comments and crits till now. Liz, you've done a lot of work on my poem! I shall have to go thru' all your suggestions carefully, as you've made so many. Too late now, must off to bed.
Several people seem to have a problem with my "whose is that face...etc.", so I'll mull over that issue...see what I can come up with!
And the repetition of "ghost" too often.
Tx a lot! Hope you all get off to a good start in 2016!
Syl***
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