Her Secret

[SivaRamanathan]

She wore white
she was pious
she had a snake sleeping under her cot
she fed it milk
in a silver saucer
she was the wife of Asher Seth
I have only heard of her.

Secrets in a jar
open the lid, whisper to it, talk free, bring life
let nature take care;
this Asher Seth's woman had a son
who resembled someone else's son
now I have said it all.

[Bernie01]

hi Siva---


me i cut this:

I have only heard of her from my mother.
'' Don't hoard your secrets
they will rot
open the lid, they will disperse
this is the secret of preserving that secret.''

Anything closed and kept closed
will rot, will rot





this is just to closely reasoned, it does not carry my emotions, only my intellectual curiosity.


but very interesting subject and images.


bernie

[FredFourth]

I actually like Siva's poem.

If she makes it too obtuse, then it becomes just another riddle in a long list of modern riddles called poetic riddles.

Siva speak so feeding a snake, unless I am told I get nothing out of one more riddle, it could be an elephant under the lid otherwise or a new Mercedes.

But I suppose we don't really need to know it was actually a woman named Asher Seth, but then would Eleanor Rigby by the same without the name?

To be sure some people would prune, and prune harshly leaving a bear bones.

I don't know if Siva will read me let alone take up suggestions, but we try.

[SivaRamanathan]

Thanks Frank and Bernie.

I want to say that Asher Seth's lady who was so pious to the outer world,was not so pious after all.But from my lines it appears as though Asher Seth played around. Anyway poetry is not poetry if one has to explain it.I just do not know how to bring it out.

Siva

[FredFourth]

She wore white, alluding piousness
a snake kept under her cot
fed milk from a silver saucer
wife of Asher Seth
or so it's said

Secrets kept under wraps
whispers float on air
from one act comes another

Asher Seth's son looked
nothing like him
Need it be said


Just a few ideas Siva, use or not accordingly.

[SivaRamanathan]

Her Secret


Because you started your married life in Tiruppur
in your early twenties, in half a sari and your neighbour

was the pious elderly Asher Seth's missus, full of prayers
for Lord Shiva and just a pet snake for religious rites

perfectly capable of keeping her company at night.
sucking milk from a silver saucer under her cot

all this must have been so new to you; the stories
you told me Amma at an age when I could not put

two and two together; You said ,'She also had a son
who looked liked your uncle; I knew you were trying

to tell me something.

[Billy]

Siva, I like the first version--the first version at the Waters--and I had no problem realizing it was the wife. Great poem.

[FredFourth]

I have read the three versions of this and to me the last is the first, the best.

I actually think it is superb.

Possibly Bernie's comment has brought the best out of you.

[SivaRamanathan]

Her Secret

Not all is coincidence. My grandmother
was too busy pickling mangoes
sealing jars with white gauze to bother.
‘’Pickles when closed air tight will rot,
will rot like secrets,’’ she said.

The years roll back to Tirupur
the Asher Seth’s lady’s bed creaked
creaked. Amma, you were a young
housewife and she a mill owner’s woman.

How can I forget the story
of the Asher Seth’s lady, wearing white
pious with prayers for Lord Shiva
petting the hood of a tame cobra
drinking milk from a silver saucer
underneath her cot?

You noticed that her son
resembles your brother.

[SivaRamanathan]

Thanks Billy and Frank.

[FredFourth]

Resembles, unless he is dead.