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M
Moderator Username: mjm
Post Number: 3071 Registered: 11-1998
| Posted on Thursday, June 09, 2005 - 4:28 pm: |
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. Shoes Brought Me to This Place _________________________________________________
Black felt, clog-inspired, many sizes too large. My feet slip, treacherously near the verge with every step. In them, I sorrowfully n/um tchai until dawn. I am forced to breakfast with the others, told to eat institutionalized, rheumy eggs if I wish to be whole again. “Scrambled are good for me?” I ask -- scrambled was the van that carried me here. My fork shakes like a shekere. I eat in them, sleep in them, bathe in them. They mold my soles, infect me with his contours, character. His thrumming hum numbs my toes, rises through me. Orderlies try to remove them; I slap their hands, bite the back of their necks. When the shrieking starts at night, I hide inside them, soft and safe. They are risk, ritual, reward. “He is dead,” the therapist tells me. No, not when his shoes still dance. .
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M. Kathryn Black
Advanced Member Username: kathryn
Post Number: 2433 Registered: 09-2002
| Posted on Thursday, June 09, 2005 - 5:18 pm: |
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M, when I read your poem I think of that saying, "comfortable as an old pair of shoes." For me, this isn't an easy poem to interpret, but I felt it was about holding onto the familiar in a vicious world, maybe also about finding safety in the midst of madness. Some words I didn't know the meaning of like the Asian word in the first stanza, but I felt overall it was a powerful piece of work. Best, Kathryn |
marty
Valued Member Username: marty
Post Number: 542 Registered: 10-2003
| Posted on Thursday, June 09, 2005 - 7:11 pm: |
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M, Psychological and yet it carries with it something that the reader can relate to. It is difficult in the sense that the interpretation may come in layers, but the composition is simple in its wordings that the reader is drawn. I did not contemplate on the difficulty of interpreting, I instead focused on "what is" in the poem. As always, far in between, but whenever you choose to post, its always beautiful. Cheers Brethren |
"A-Bear"
Moderator Username: dane
Post Number: 1100 Registered: 11-1998
| Posted on Thursday, June 09, 2005 - 9:05 pm: |
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n/um tchai ? Please translate. And believe me, I have tried. Installed several language packs to no avail (Chinese, Korean, etc., traditional and simplified). I'm pulling my hair - help ? Before I self-commit, okay ? |
E V Brooks
Intermediate Member Username: lia
Post Number: 1068 Registered: 12-2003
| Posted on Friday, June 10, 2005 - 2:35 am: |
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A very well crafted piece M, very confessional that left me with shivers by the end.. I almost felt possessed too! But then, your writing always draws the reader in to the very heart of anything you write. Wonderful work! Lia |
M
Moderator Username: mjm
Post Number: 3072 Registered: 11-1998
| Posted on Friday, June 10, 2005 - 12:27 pm: |
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Dearest friends -- thank you so much for reading my working and leaving me such thoughtful comments. Yes, I thought this one might be a bit esoteric, but I'm happy that people can find their own interpretations. For me, it is about a woman who loses her husband, but still wears his shoes. She is crazy in her grief and is institutionalized. I think perhaps you can understand it from there. As to the foreign words, they are African. The first is a !Kung Bushman term, the second Nigerian. Rather than try to explain n/um tchai in my own words, here is something easily found on the net: "Tchai is the word used by the !Kung to describe getting together to dance and sing; n/um can be translated as medicine, or supernatural potency. The !Kung gather for "medicine dances" often, usually at night, and sometimes such dances last until dawn. Women sit on the ground, clapping and singing and occasionally dancing a round or two, while men circle around them, singing and stamping rhythms with their feet. The songs are wordless but named: "rain," "sun," "honey," "giraffe," and other "strong things." The strength of the songs is their n/um, or medicine, thought to be a gift from the great god. N/um is also in the fire, and even more so in the "owners of medicine," or curers. Most !Kung men practice as curers at some point in their lives, and in this film we see several men in various stages of trance. A light trance gradually deepens, as the medicine grows "hot," and eventually some men will shriek and run about, falling on hot coals, entering the state the !Kung call "half-death." As to the shekere, it is a hand percussion instrument. The forerunner of the casaba. It is a gourd that is covered with beads. You've probably seen them many times in bands that play World or African music. You shake it and the beads hit the gourd making a rattling sound. Hope this answers the questions. And again, thanks for inspiring and supporting me. Love, M
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michael julius sottak
Intermediate Member Username: julius
Post Number: 1526 Registered: 12-2003
| Posted on Friday, June 10, 2005 - 1:00 pm: |
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The last stanza, and, in particular, the last line, make this dance, MJ... I like the mysterious incantations, the delirium that accompanies... it works without the explanation... (though most welcome) |
Zephyr
Intermediate Member Username: zephyr
Post Number: 2680 Registered: 07-2003
| Posted on Friday, June 10, 2005 - 1:05 pm: |
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Thank you for the explanation of those words M, A poem from you is always special, much pathos here, and I had no problem interpreting this. |
steve
New member Username: twobyfour
Post Number: 22 Registered: 05-2005
| Posted on Friday, June 10, 2005 - 1:45 pm: |
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dear m write more please!! i love how this unfolds till we confirm that the shoes belong to someone else. you have some ambiguities in this, but then again, i think they belong in this because she is a bit crazy. also, i like how you've forced the piece into quatrains even though the natural breaks in the narrative don't fit the form. again, i like how this mirrors her feeling of being out of place in an institution. the shrieks could be her or not, reads well both ways. lastly, i admire that you resisted going to Oz, as most of us would when writing about shoes, so thanks for that as well. so like i said, write more love s
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Gary Blankenship
Advanced Member Username: garyb
Post Number: 3945 Registered: 07-2001
| Posted on Friday, June 10, 2005 - 8:25 pm: |
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Coming late to this wonderful poem (demonstrating why you are on my short list), others have said it better than I might. The poem relates the end of lives and what goes when lives paired become one as well as any I have read...or does it. I would italic shekere Line 14 too long And if Monday this is not an IBPC poem, please mail me. Thanks. Gary ps, why do you include the African words. Clogs took me elsewhere and there is no other reason in clear in the poem... Time to read FireWeed. Go in through http://www.mindfirerenew.com/ to get to the issue in a couple of clicks
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M
Moderator Username: mjm
Post Number: 3082 Registered: 11-1998
| Posted on Friday, June 10, 2005 - 9:10 pm: |
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Thank you, my dear ones, for your words. Your comments and your interest always make the writing so worthwhile. I would write more, s, but then I would have to watch more terribly upsetting movies that make me walk in circles half the night. I don't know -- is it worth that? *smile* Dearest Mr. B -- Yep, I thought that line was too long too, but someone convinced me that staggered line lengths reinforce her obviously crazed mental state. I mean would someone who's obviously so far out on the ledge write in neat, orderly lines? I must admit, I had to agree with that advice after I thought about it for awhile. The suggestion was to make the lines lengths even more staggered than they are. As to that other issue, the clogs thing, I really didn't think about it until you mentioned it. This one comes from personal experience and the shoes that were left behind were clogs, so I guess I just told the truth without considering the implications. I did some research, though, after you brought it up and the earliest examples of clogs that have been found were in the Egyptian culture. Is that close enough to African? *smile* Clogs progressed from there to Italy (Romans wore them), Spain, France, Central Europe, etc. They didn't make their appearance in the Netherlands until rather late, around 1570. Does that pull my butt out of the fire a bit? I used the African words mainly because I wanted the mysticism of those cultures infused into this piece. The dance in particular was perfect for this poem -- the magic, the medicine, the trance state, the half-death. It said in two words what it would have taken me lines and lines to try to describe about her reaction to grief and loss. She was a goner. *sigh* |
Gary Blankenship
Advanced Member Username: garyb
Post Number: 3951 Registered: 07-2001
| Posted on Friday, June 10, 2005 - 9:22 pm: |
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smiles understood Gar and still email me if not Time to read FireWeed. Go in through http://www.mindfirerenew.com/ to get to the issue in a couple of clicks
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Dale McLain
Valued Member Username: sparklingseas
Post Number: 811 Registered: 11-2004
| Posted on Saturday, June 11, 2005 - 6:29 am: |
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M~ Very touching. I am reading a book you might enjoy... "Good Grief" by Molly Winston. http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/tg/detail/-/0446533041/002-6728067-2457608?v=glance take care~dale |
Kathy Paupore
Intermediate Member Username: kathy
Post Number: 1976 Registered: 12-2003
| Posted on Saturday, June 11, 2005 - 7:06 am: |
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M, I posted here yesterday, but it must have been lost in the machine. I liked this piece very much. I said more, but can't recall now. K |
M
Moderator Username: mjm
Post Number: 3085 Registered: 11-1998
| Posted on Saturday, June 11, 2005 - 1:40 pm: |
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Mr. B -- will do! Thank you so very much, Dale and Kathy, for your visits. Thank you as well, Dale, for the book recommendation. I will add that to my list. The books I have waiting to be read are in a separate section in my library -- they're dwindling down to only several hundred (or is that thousand) right now, so there's always room for one more! *grin* Kathy -- I'm so sorry your comments were lost, but I will imagine good things. I thank you for the thoughts. Love, M |
Emusing
Intermediate Member Username: emusing
Post Number: 1189 Registered: 08-2003
| Posted on Tuesday, June 14, 2005 - 11:35 pm: |
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Dear M, I've been away from the boards a bit--too busy and bogged with some new activities so I'm late to comment. No difficulties understanding the message dear. Grief can make us cling to the tiniest remnant of the past. Your poem shoes it. Did I say that? I really meant to say shows and then...hah hah. Okay it's a shoe in. Yipes. It's late and I'd better get to bed. Thanks for your beautiful words M and HEY I tried to email you sometime back to congratulate you on your home but it got kicked with a too full box. Just know I was thinking of you. Love, E P.S. I like the two longish lines. They created an interesting visual tension. |
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