Blue Heron
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Blue Heron
new version:
Blue Heron
Calm as the blue sky he fished under,
my grandfather, Big Daddy,
always lived near water.
A respected healer,
he rid my hands of seedy warts,
the size of knuckles, overnight
by laying a rag over them
and mumbling what I thought
at the time was nonsense.
In a poor neighborhood he cured others
shivering with flu, offering
fervent prayers
along with spoons
of herbal soups and fish broth,
till the clouds of fevers
drifting over their foreheads lifted.
Even now I can't believe Big Daddy isn't
somewhere catching bass, or laying
his hands on a sick friend.
While I was at college he left this world
--as quietly as a wading blue heron
leaves when just for a moment
you turn your attention
away.
previous version:
Blue Heron
Calm as a great blue heron
my grandfather, Big Daddy,
always lived near water.
A respected healer,
he rid my hands of seedy warts,
the size of knuckles, overnight
by laying a rag over them
and mumbling what I thought
at the time was nonsense.
In a poor neighborhood he cured others
shivering with flu, offering
fervent prayers
along with spoons
of herbal soups and fish broth,
till the clouds of fevers
drifting over their foreheads lifted.
Even now I can't believe Big Daddy isn't
somewhere catching bass, or laying
his hands on a sick friend.
While I was at college he left this world
--as quietly as a great blue heron
leaves when just for a moment
you turn your attention
away.
Blue Heron
Calm as the blue sky he fished under,
my grandfather, Big Daddy,
always lived near water.
A respected healer,
he rid my hands of seedy warts,
the size of knuckles, overnight
by laying a rag over them
and mumbling what I thought
at the time was nonsense.
In a poor neighborhood he cured others
shivering with flu, offering
fervent prayers
along with spoons
of herbal soups and fish broth,
till the clouds of fevers
drifting over their foreheads lifted.
Even now I can't believe Big Daddy isn't
somewhere catching bass, or laying
his hands on a sick friend.
While I was at college he left this world
--as quietly as a wading blue heron
leaves when just for a moment
you turn your attention
away.
previous version:
Blue Heron
Calm as a great blue heron
my grandfather, Big Daddy,
always lived near water.
A respected healer,
he rid my hands of seedy warts,
the size of knuckles, overnight
by laying a rag over them
and mumbling what I thought
at the time was nonsense.
In a poor neighborhood he cured others
shivering with flu, offering
fervent prayers
along with spoons
of herbal soups and fish broth,
till the clouds of fevers
drifting over their foreheads lifted.
Even now I can't believe Big Daddy isn't
somewhere catching bass, or laying
his hands on a sick friend.
While I was at college he left this world
--as quietly as a great blue heron
leaves when just for a moment
you turn your attention
away.
Re: Blue Heron
Bob:
lovely work. the feeling lingers long after closing the poem.
a thought about the opening, you know I am a fanatic about strong openings....
I might hint at the bird image....so the close is still fresh at the end.
Calm as a blue heron.
beautiful impression made there, but probably no need to make the simile so literal.
bernie
lovely work. the feeling lingers long after closing the poem.
a thought about the opening, you know I am a fanatic about strong openings....
I might hint at the bird image....so the close is still fresh at the end.
Calm as a blue heron.
beautiful impression made there, but probably no need to make the simile so literal.
bernie
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Re: Blue Heron
Bob
Enjoyed reading this.
S
Enjoyed reading this.
S
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- Posts: 1168
- Joined: 14 May 2011, 20:30
Re: Blue Heron
Bob
Enjoyed reading this.
S
Enjoyed reading this.
S
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- Joined: 18 Apr 2005, 04:57
Re: Blue Heron
Hi Bob,
a workshop share in keeping w/ bernie's observation on the opening & saving the blue heron image "fresh" for the finale
My grandfather, large & calm
as the blue sky over
the water he always lived near.
maybe even limit the title to just "Blue"
a poem about a thaumaturge or thaumaturgist - maybe there's a title - "thaumaturgist out of the blue"
Michael (MV)
Re: Blue Heron
From a Democracy Now broadcast
One of the most anticipated novels of 2017, The Ministry of Utmost Happiness by Arundhati Roy will hit bookstands across India today, June 6. The novel comes 20 years after the author's The God of Small Things, which won the Booker Prize in 1997 and was a bestseller in more than 30 languages worldwide. The following is an excerpt from the new book:
The first time she made her way past the crowd -- the sellers of ittars and amulets, the custodians of pilgrims' shoes, the cripples, the beggars, the homeless, the goats being fattened for slaughter on Eid and the knot of quiet, elderly eunuchs who had taken up residence under a tarpaulin outside the shrine - and entered the tiny red chamber, Jahanara Begum became calm. The street sounds grew faint and seemed to come from far away. She sat in a corner with her baby asleep on her lap, watching people, Muslim as well as Hindu, come in ones and twos, and tie red threads, red bangles and chits of paper to the grille around the tomb, beseeching Sarmad to bless them. It was only after she noticed a translucent old man with dry, papery skin and a wispy beard of spun light sitting in a corner, rocking back and forth, weeping silently as though his heart was broken, that Jahanara Begum allowed her own tears to fall. This is my son, Aftab, she whispered to Hazrat Sarmad. I've brought him here to you. Look after him. And teach me how to love him.
Hazrat Sarmad did.
One of the most anticipated novels of 2017, The Ministry of Utmost Happiness by Arundhati Roy will hit bookstands across India today, June 6. The novel comes 20 years after the author's The God of Small Things, which won the Booker Prize in 1997 and was a bestseller in more than 30 languages worldwide. The following is an excerpt from the new book:
The first time she made her way past the crowd -- the sellers of ittars and amulets, the custodians of pilgrims' shoes, the cripples, the beggars, the homeless, the goats being fattened for slaughter on Eid and the knot of quiet, elderly eunuchs who had taken up residence under a tarpaulin outside the shrine - and entered the tiny red chamber, Jahanara Begum became calm. The street sounds grew faint and seemed to come from far away. She sat in a corner with her baby asleep on her lap, watching people, Muslim as well as Hindu, come in ones and twos, and tie red threads, red bangles and chits of paper to the grille around the tomb, beseeching Sarmad to bless them. It was only after she noticed a translucent old man with dry, papery skin and a wispy beard of spun light sitting in a corner, rocking back and forth, weeping silently as though his heart was broken, that Jahanara Begum allowed her own tears to fall. This is my son, Aftab, she whispered to Hazrat Sarmad. I've brought him here to you. Look after him. And teach me how to love him.
Hazrat Sarmad did.
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Re: Blue Heron
Thanks, Michael, Bernie--
I think you're right about the opening.....I will consider your suggestions, and see what I can do....best, Bob
I think you're right about the opening.....I will consider your suggestions, and see what I can do....best, Bob
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- Posts: 2688
- Joined: 03 Jun 2016, 21:03
Re: Blue Heron
Thanks, Siva....I somehow missed your post....best, Bob