dcmarti1 Posted April 17 Share Posted April 17 (edited) Prodigious (In the Obsolete, as in Portentous, Composed on Vigil Saturday Before Easter) I left with no inheritance, only a plan. There was no sibling, nor were there goats. I never had to hear, “This, your son” and I never had to bear, “This, your brother!” Thirty years divided my parents' deaths, And thirty years divided the homes Of my birth and of my living. Dollar-cost-averaging was my path: I wasn't going to end up a pigherd. Twenty years of missiles, Then twenty years of treaties, Then to cameras, mics, and podiums, With someone reciting my speech in French, While people with headphones pretend to listen. I surmounted with a desk and a spiel Behind plexiglass, masks optional. “Don't touch the walls! No flash!” This laptop has a password and a fob With a random number generator. Have I really returned, Or did I ever truly leave? Edited April 18 by dcmarti1 Correct two words in lines 3 and 4. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
JoelJosol Posted April 30 Share Posted April 30 I love the poem's musicality, enjambment, tone of voice of the speaker. To me the key words were "left" at the first line and then "leave" at the last line. In between was a journey, through concrete symbols implying the inclusion of the pandemic with "masks" and conferences, from the abstraction of family to more concrete words of tech connected by "then". A key technique used is repetition of phrases "I never had to", "divided" and "twenty years". The challenge for me is to figure out its linkage to the title 🙂 Quote "Words are not things, and yet they are not non-things either." - Ann Lauterbach Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
tonyv Posted May 1 Share Posted May 1 On 4/17/2022 at 7:55 AM, dcmarti1 said: Have I really returned, Or did I ever truly leave? I suppose our experiences, in the aggregate, make us what we are today, in the now. Your life isn't somewhere out there, this is your life. When I look at others, who in the past seemed to have more to so show for life, I see now that they're the same as I am, old: no better, no worse, just different, yet, in many ways, the same with similar needs and problems. We are what we are. I never had to hear, “This, your son” and I never had to bear, “This, your brother!” Thankfully, neither have I! This is full circle. I like how you've concentrated the journey into this lyrical memoir. Tony Quote Here is a link to an index of my works on this site: tonyv's Member Archive topic Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
dcmarti1 Posted May 1 Author Share Posted May 1 On 4/29/2022 at 10:54 PM, JoelJosol said: I love the poem's musicality, enjambment, tone of voice of the speaker. To me the key words were "left" at the first line and then "leave" at the last line. In between was a journey, through concrete symbols implying the inclusion of the pandemic with "masks" and conferences, from the abstraction of family to more concrete words of tech connected by "then". A key technique used is repetition of phrases "I never had to", "divided" and "twenty years". The challenge for me is to figure out its linkage to the title 🙂 Pro-digious. Pro-digal. Prodigal. I was thinking of that parable, and how I ALWAYS felt the other brother got the short end of the stick. (At that story's end, it is revealed that he never asked if his father could have a party, and the father never told him exactly how special he was: miscommunication.) I was an only child; never had that. But my journey, from misguided military-industrial-complex believer -with those dreams- to museum welcome desk, is true. 🙂 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
dcmarti1 Posted May 1 Author Share Posted May 1 27 minutes ago, tonyv said: I suppose our experiences, in the aggregate, make us what we are today, in the now. Your life isn't somewhere out there, this is your life. When I look at others, who in the past seemed to have more to so show for life, I see now that they're the same as I am, old: no better, no worse, just different, yet, in many ways, the same with similar needs and problems. We are what we are. I never had to hear, “This, your son” and I never had to bear, “This, your brother!” Thankfully, neither have I! This is full circle. I like how you've concentrated the journey into this lyrical memoir. Tony AND, we are what we are.....because of what we weren't. Ha! I used to want to be a missile treaty verifier, then Secy of State. Yeah, that never happened. 🙂 Thanks. 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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