The Dirty Days of April

[Andrea345]

Doll
Mirror
Nail
Sailor
Heart
Letter
Bed
Milk
Helmet
Music
Road

How many words can you remember?
                                        Let me give you the story.

     It was the small things at first, the forgotten name of a favorite flower,
     "begonia," the name of his dog, "Susie," where he put the ashes.
     The train of thought just left and he'd wander around the dinner table

smiling at friends he barely remembered.

Dement
De-ment
De ment ia

Plaques and tangles in memory, the increasing size of the black areas,
of the water spaces. Doll Sailor Nail Milk Mirror Heart Road Music Letter

Gee-ahhh-low-gee moves to deee-men-cha. He knew he was having a problem.
Begonia. Begonia. Begonia. Doll Heart Letter Mirror Sailor Letter Bed Milk
Violent dreams. Not in memory, but in attention. Helmet Music Bed Milk Nail

Plan this and this and this, instead of reminiscing. Very good recollection
     but he can't remember we're going to Costco today at 10.
                                        Think ahead. Think
a
head
doll
mirror

                                        Let me give you the story of that one.

[prokopton]

Doll-Head-Mirror is a scary poem.
I have experienced aphasia during a migraine
and I see dementia increasing in some friends
right now. It is an eerie comment on consciousness
and self-hood that you have made, not something I can even joke about
any more.
Thanks for posting.

Geoff
63 and coasting.

[5th column]

Hello Andrea. Love the last. Is it only me who worries each time a word won't appear? My personal AWOL word is garlic, accompanied by other regular companions from time to time.

[larryrap]

Hi Andrea,

Song and Easter are both beautiful for their balance and precision which are rare when one writes so close to the heart. The grief and lust poems complement each other so there's a large payoff when the poems are read together. Placeholder is the ultimate in telling a lot in a little. This song is a moment has Greek poise and timelessness.

[Emilio]

Andrea, of these I kept coming back to Robert and Robert, I loved the seductive play on tense and self,

When he took me for the first time,
I became an image of myself - one
shaken, sanded, and stripped. He reached
around me, held me back as he jacked
me hard, and I - I became past tense.

I enjoyed reading your work!

Best,

[mjd888]

Hi Andrea

I really liked 'Song'. Its concreteness was compelling, particularly 'it is the first sprout of green breaching dark soil.' 'Breaching' is a well chosen word, as it carries the immense power that buds and sprouts seem to have at spring time. ''Three Gourds...' has a lovely, poignant ending, that 'zooms out' from the specificity of the gourds into something more universal.

Matthew

[PClem]

Small Love, The Secret and esp. Doll, Mirror, Nail, Sailor. You have me. Incredible thread.

[Andrea345]

Wearing Purple

"I shall wear purple"
"Warning" by Jenny Joseph

From ankles to just below the knee, the legs
have gone purple as plums. Veins burst
with the effort to rise and an ulcer begins to form.
You've been to the dread clinic again this woundful year
when your age has become a rot of color: purple legs,
yellow shit, white hair, the red rimming around your eyes.
The fact that you are alive, with your mind intact, and your grip
still enough to drag your body up step by step up two flights
of stairs is the beauty of the old woman you've now become.


********************************* TANKEE PANKEE! ************************

Geoff, I'm 54 and worried. Remember when Donner had her 50th birthday and announced it on the board? Geez, we've just hung on so long here. I'm glad you found the poem workable.
5 column - back again for more?! Wow! Thanks. I'll add it in the next rev!
larryrap - Yep, these poems are meant to be "held together". This is "chapbook season" for me. So, I'm particularly glad to hear that there's consistency.
Emilio - I'm glad you found something which worked for you. Thanks for reading
Matthew - I was introduced to the French poet by a friend just this week. While we're familiar with Akhmatova's sevenlings, his terminating line I quoted which drove the piece really struck me. The guy actually was one of France's "laureates". I'm glad my echo resonated. Thanks for letting me know.
PClem - Thank you.

[Andrea345]

Néant

Le néant est un concept d'absence absolue, ou de nullité absolue.
Il est directement et indissociablement lié à la notion d'existence.

The French expresses your death in ways never written in English.
And their word for the solace I've been able to find in my prayers
and meditations are "succédané" compared to your last whisper
of "Good night" while you rubbed your foot against my leg
as we rustled under our covers, nestling down to your final sleep.

[billdozer]

Andrea, such a wonderful, well wrought, thread. The strong emotion throughout is always supported by a considered presentation. I started with Néant and then skipped back and forth. Néant remains my favorite. Trying to grasp the french without resort to a handy translation resonates with the difficulty of expressing loss adequately. "Succédané" bridges that gap nicely between the effort of prayer and the ease of a human gesture. I'm not doing it justice, but Thank You.

[MEHope]

Néant

Le néant est un concept d'absence absolue, ou de nullité absolue.
Il est directement et indissociablement lié à la notion d'existence.

The French expresses your death in ways never written in English.
And their word for the solace I've been able to find in my prayers
and meditations are "succédané" compared to your last whisper
of "Good night" while you rubbed your foot against my leg
as we rustled under our covers, nestling down to your final sleep.

Tres bien, tres, tres bien!

Just what I need from a poem, something that packs a wallop, does so in little space and catches my breath, all at once.
This and your others are doing a lot of work, nice work; good thread!

[Scrow]

Hello,

I find the last three extraordinarily strong, for different reasons. Neant is beautiful - just beautiful - and the juxtaposition of the French with the commonplace of couple going to sleep with a small sign of everyday affection is very moving indeed. 'Wearing Purple' - a good juxtaposition to the original, and I reckon with an ageing population there's a great deal of importance in writing about these things (I'm 44, but I see it in some of my older friends, and it's coming to all of us, so let's be prepared - poetry might just help with that. I'm waiting to drag myself up those stairs).

Doll-Head-Mirror similarly, again socially relevant: and if 'socially relevant' as a comment seems a bit dry, it isn't because I found the poem dry, just because I think there's a need - a real, emotional need here to communicate about this kind of thing in a way that is neither patronising nor 'entertainment'. Your poem provokes empathy and understanding. It's all excellent, but these last three I find particularly meaningful and valuable.

Sarah

[Steven]

I thought 'The Secret' was excellent. Harsh, and visceral, and all the better for it.

[Andrea345]

Fame
     at 85

There are twelve steps to the landing then five more
to reach the bedrooms' floor, the living room
is sunk by one, there are three outside the door.

Your home is a progression, a series, a course
of obstacles which force you to review
what independence means at its basic source.

To live alone, to cook, and clothe, and clean
is more than it seems when you cannot rise by yourself
or stand before the stove while the green beans

cook. We live much longer than our strength,
so long that now we're flanked by kind concern
and worst yet, love, about the type, the length

of our endurance, while memory is a topic
for everyone's "quick chat." Your business is now
their concern, and information belongs to your public.



*****************************

bill - I'm glad you found a piece which resonated. Thank you for letting me know.
ME - this has not been a "fun" one, that's for sure. Glad you liked the French fried... Thanks!
Sarah - Thank you, especially for commenting on "Wearing Purple."
Steven - Thank you for your comment. I'm glad to know how the piece struck.

-a

[JFN]

Andrea, Grief is visceral indeed. I think this works well, and captures that feeling nicely.

my trebles unanswered is a clever way to highlight the kids of the bird. This might amuse you. Blooming chefs.

The change of tone at the last line of Easter is palpable. Love the heave next to the birdsong.

Small Love it's just fantastic. Really enjoyed the whole of it, but S2 stood out as an excellent extension of the already well established origami swan metaphor.

The Secret is graphic in its imagery (particularly S2), but tender in its sentiment, which nicely mirrors the aging exteriors finding sweetness in the lover's interiors. Clever.

Doll / Mirror / Nail... works very well in making the reader feel disorientated. The wandering around the dinner table helps to personalise the protagonist somewhat.

This, when your age has become a rot of color: purple legs, / yellow shit, white hair, the red rimming around your eyes is as excellent as it is disturbing, and this We live much longer than our strength is a good summation of a lot of your pieces. Aging seems such a personal and yet, by nature, public thing, and a perspective that can only be attained by living it. I only hope that when I meet it I am able to write anywhere near as well as some of the poems you've posted this month.

A pleasure to read.

John