I am for the roadside rather than the road.
I am for the one who announces
rather than the one who is announced.
In the middle of a ballet, I am the fly
rubbing its hind legs together
on the collar of a coat.
I am a friend to those who curse
when they’re happy
& sing when they’re sad.
And when someone places a hand
like a hot iron on some starched bible,
I am with those who blush
& stare at their feet.
*
Fascinating new word!I enjoyed the poem before I learned about the word, then the poem turned into an intriguing puzzle.
In the middle of a ballet, I am the fly
rubbing its hind legs together
on the collar of a coat.
Love it.
the last bit is something I hadn’t considered.
Hi Dave,
the first part of this was both funny and moving for me – which is an excellent & hard to manage effect – but the last stanza lost me completely.
I drew a puzzled blank.
Can you explain anything or would that ruin it?
In peace,
Kris
Note to later readers: Kris is responding to an earlier draft in which the last stanza read,
–Dave (1/20/09)
Hi Kris – I don’t mind explaining, but I’m not sure how much you gathered. The reference here is to a swearing-in ceremony (Barakah->Barack). Those who are embarassed by the gesture might be hyper-conscious of their own untrustworthiness; they might be illiterate, and ashamed of that; or they might be opposed to oaths on principle. One way or another, I conceive of such official protestations of truthfulness as inimical to the free-flowing nature of bessings/charisma/barakah.
Thank you, I think I have it. Gorgeous poem.
“Work of fiction” being the Bible in a swearing-in ceremony did not compute for me.
Not that some bits of it aren’t fictional . . . but I think of most of it as a beautiful and sometimes dangerous combination of factual and mythic truths.
Of course, is a sense, the Bible etc. (Talmud, Kabbalah, New Testament, philosophy of religion . . .) is my job: I’m a professor of religion, mostly Judaism, its history, and the literatures pertaining.
I am exceptionally lucky to have such interesting work, and often confused. ;-)
Be well,
Kris
Kris, you won’t find a bigger fan of the Bible than me (see for example Why I Love the Old Testament). I am probably guilty of obscurantism here, but what I was trying to get at is that fetishing the bible in this manner, treating it as a touchstone and guarantor of a rather narrow conception of truth, calls its own truth-statements into question in a way that a more respectful and nuanced appreciation might not.
The below is not a suggestion for the poem, but a riff on your response:
And when someone places their left hand
on the Sacred
to pledge mere factuality
I am with those who blush
& stare at their feet.
Thanks!
Hmm. I can’t go where Kris goes, but his northward turn suggests a southward one:
and when someone places their left hand
on a stack of dead tree-flesh …
or even
and when someone places their left hand
on a stack of dead leaves …
I hope you enjoy this riffing. It’s a compliment.
Kris – There you go.
Jarrett – Of course. I’m honored. Sparked by this discussion, I just posted a new draft of those lines myself. I preserved the first draft as an editorial footnote to Kris’ original comment.