Stumbling into poetry.. maybe.
Posted: Sat Mar 05, 2011 5:18 pm
Choices, Generations
What do you do, O father,
And what do you do, O mother,
When the fields grow closer together?
Divided smaller with each generation?
Anxious heart clutched
As with vines growing up thick around
An ancient dwelling
Thorny and grasping, clasping.
I see you chopping lotus root,
Hands worked down to the nub.
Bones of fingers, working away rhythmically:
"Quick, quick, work."
A single slip, a single failure, could mean death.
Your hands clung tightly to the decisions
For you were the ones who knew:
"This is how we educate a child"
Though you saw his eyes,
Though you saw her eyes.
Anger sprung up afresh in the heart
Quickly pressed down: again and again.
You steeled yourselves with sorrow:
"This I must do."
To love you must mistreat.
"Work," you said.
And then O parents, you traveled to a new land.
What humiliation did you bear from fools?
As your tongue struggled with the strange words.
Knowledge and learning held inside, but can't get out.
What shame has cut down your face,
That remains unspoken today?
Swallowing the very thing you hate.
What bitter, bitter taste.
You know sacrifice.
And in that new land, all was changed.
It was as though someone told you
That the sky was really yellow
When you always had thought it was blue.
And they have surrounded your children,
saying, "This is good."
But you say, "Bu hao!"
And you think, "Bu yao!"
And now you, O, child
- for they say you are a child -
Who says what?
I say you need not remain a child.
I see you, the beautiful bird,
Trapped in a gilded cage.
A prison you can't see
But tangible as the bitter taste.
"Make a decision, take a risk."
"Try though you may fail."
They tell you this.
But you don't know what it is.
Your tongue is silent, but your eyes say "No!"
Make a choice; please speak; tell me "No."
Or how will you ever know what's inside your own soul?
How are you ever gonna know what's inside your own soul?
This is a very raw, unfinished poem... trying to write about what's on my mind. Glad I can do this anonymously. Also, most of you probably won't know how little I know about my topic...
What do you do, O father,
And what do you do, O mother,
When the fields grow closer together?
Divided smaller with each generation?
Anxious heart clutched
As with vines growing up thick around
An ancient dwelling
Thorny and grasping, clasping.
I see you chopping lotus root,
Hands worked down to the nub.
Bones of fingers, working away rhythmically:
"Quick, quick, work."
A single slip, a single failure, could mean death.
Your hands clung tightly to the decisions
For you were the ones who knew:
"This is how we educate a child"
Though you saw his eyes,
Though you saw her eyes.
Anger sprung up afresh in the heart
Quickly pressed down: again and again.
You steeled yourselves with sorrow:
"This I must do."
To love you must mistreat.
"Work," you said.
And then O parents, you traveled to a new land.
What humiliation did you bear from fools?
As your tongue struggled with the strange words.
Knowledge and learning held inside, but can't get out.
What shame has cut down your face,
That remains unspoken today?
Swallowing the very thing you hate.
What bitter, bitter taste.
You know sacrifice.
And in that new land, all was changed.
It was as though someone told you
That the sky was really yellow
When you always had thought it was blue.
And they have surrounded your children,
saying, "This is good."
But you say, "Bu hao!"
And you think, "Bu yao!"
And now you, O, child
- for they say you are a child -
Who says what?
I say you need not remain a child.
I see you, the beautiful bird,
Trapped in a gilded cage.
A prison you can't see
But tangible as the bitter taste.
"Make a decision, take a risk."
"Try though you may fail."
They tell you this.
But you don't know what it is.
Your tongue is silent, but your eyes say "No!"
Make a choice; please speak; tell me "No."
Or how will you ever know what's inside your own soul?
How are you ever gonna know what's inside your own soul?
This is a very raw, unfinished poem... trying to write about what's on my mind. Glad I can do this anonymously. Also, most of you probably won't know how little I know about my topic...