I beg your forgiveness for posting one day early. Monday is my appointed day. Yet, as it happens, I will be away from my computer the entire day, and didn't want to keep you waiting until Tuesday. JPS
* * * * * * * * * * *
Be honest. How
many of you actually read last week’s poem, “And Now”? Or did you discover that
the post was about poetry and quickly look away, turning your attention to more
familiar forms of writing. I know. I know. Somewhere in your early education,
poetry was forced upon you by some well-meaning English teacher who despite an
academic degree in the subject area, had no idea how to make verse accessible
or pleasurable to you. Still, I know some of you are closet poetry readers. So,
onward to our second adventure in the art of the poem.
Metaphor is one
of the premiere tools of the poet, as well as authors of all stripes. A
metaphor refers to the meaning or identity ascribed to one subject by way of another.
In a metaphor, one subject is implied to be another so as to draw a comparison
between their similarities and shared traits. That’s the definition, but
examples make this device clearer: “Juliet is the sun” and “All the world’s a
stage” (Shakespeare), the curtain of night, the rosy fingers of dawn, and so on
and so on. Get the idea?
I mention
metaphor this week because the selected poem by yours truly is filled with
metaphors; in fact, the whole poem is one, big metaphor. What does that mean
for the poetry reader? Turn on your headlamp and carry a pick axe into the cave
of interpretations to carve out the diamonds of meaning. Goodness! There they
are: four metaphors in the previous sentence. By nature, humans like to make
comparisons and metaphors are a great help in doing so. Once you get started,
it will be hard to turn them off.
I’ll offer one
trick of the trade: Don’t look for the metaphors on the first, or even second
reading. Sure, they may present themselves quite clearly right away. Let them
be. Then, once you have a feel for the poem’s mood and emotional tone, have fun
finding as many metaphors as you can. This poem is perfect for metaphor
hunting.
As will be my
habit, below the poem, I will give some background on where the poem came from,
and some explorations that are meant to help you go into the jungle to fetch a
diamond out. (More metaphors, this one from the drama, Death of a Salesman which has nothing to do with the poem below.
This week’s poem is titled,
“Serpent
Saint.”
Starting awake
after abundant years laced with nightshade while she slept
Charmed years
rush together bending light into inflected rainbows
rising between
hazy slivers of dream and waking thick with shadow
Ghosts of
haunted seasons flown far away have loosed
their leaves
and petals, cluttered and confused
circling her
feet covering gold and silver offerings to a sleeping marble saint
Below her, coiled
amid metallic brightness, a twisting shape with copper scales laid close
atop one
another like a hundred lovers with no space or will to breathe
One long sinuous
spiral sculpting jagged memories
Two scents
bloom - one rings serpent’s head. The other standing above the snake
permits wasted
requiems and dried sashays hung long ago and unremembered around the petrified
holy neck that holds the sainted head
Reptile and
blossom aromas swirl up shriveled nose, wilted mouth, abated breath
Yet, to bless
flown years and faded flowers, the marble figure blinks a tear
Beneath,
serpent nostrils flare and fill with smoking sparks of snake
as her foot
steps, pathing forward, pressing skull of serpent saint
Background: This poem was written following what has
been called “a dark night of the soul”; a time of recovery and re-emergence.
Depression plays no small part in the genesis of these verses. Catholic symbols
are used to give the poem an air of antiquity and long-held ritual, plus a
sniff of verity.
The list of clues
below are more than usual; however, with all the metaphors in the poem, I’m
simply trying to be helpful.
Clue #1: Beyond the obvious images of a statue and a snake, who or
what do these figures represent?
Exploration #1: What is happening in the first stanza
regarding sleep and wakening? What questions arise for you as you are
introduced to “the sleeping marble saint”?
Exploration #2: How do the words, “Ghosts of seasons flown far away,” add to
understanding what the main character (the “statue”) has gone through?”
Exploration #3: In the third stanza, we are introduced to the other main
character in the poem. Did you immediately know that a serpent was being
described through metaphor? No problem if not. What thoughts or images do come
to mind?
Exploration #4: Did you experience any sensory impact related to the “two
scents,” and how does one (or two) of the smells relate to the “dried sashays”
in the next line?
Exploration #5: How can a statue “blink a tear”?
Exploration # 6: What is the meaning of the final metaphor: “pressing skull
of serpent snake”?
Finally, count up
the number of metaphors you found. The person who finds the most gets to be the
central figure in a forthcoming poem. Other comments and interpretations
welcome, and will receive a response.
Don’t be scared.
It’s only poetry and you won’t get snake-bit.
Jack Pine (Poet)
Savage
Oh sure, explain it now, eh? I've read that poem long and smooth to the touch for weeks. I've imagined what it was you were describing in an effort to graphically illustrate it, but all too often it's far too difficult to even come close, graphically speaking, to one of your complex poems. Now had you written "Mary Had a Little Lamb", illustrating it would be relatively easy, not so with Serpent Saint, although I immediately 'saw' a white marble-like snake-like body ... but the more I read into it, the further away from it I got, and having severely limited space, I colorized it enwrapping, literally, a stock of nightshade a.k.a. belladonna, devil's berries, naughty man's cherries, death cherries, beautiful death, and devil's herb. Oh yeah, I got deep into research about that plant, even to the point of recognizing its medical name in an English TV drama when a young doctor saves the life of a beautiful young woman by administering two minute drops of belladonna to her lips in a last ditch, all or nothing, Hail Mary throw kind of treatment--which of course, on cue, just-like-that, shabang, poof! awakened her. she and the doc get married, and they live happily ever after, so thanks once again for broadening my poetry education once again. YOU ROCK!
ReplyDeleteI too have heard this poem. It's s good one, chock full of images. Every good Catholic home and school had a copy of this statue of the Virgin Mary. She was standing on a half globe of the earth, crushing Satan's head. The dried sashay confuses me. A sashay is a walk but to me you're describing a lei or a spray or bouquet.
ReplyDeleteIn grade school we had a May procession in honor of Mary. The two smells remind me of the blossoms overhead and decaying winter debris in the bushes. I connect you with the statue and the snake with your depression and the tear with a return to the lightness of being, breaking out of your marble prison.
If I'm off the mark, it doesn't really matter. I had fun. No words were injured in the writing of this comment.
Gentlemen,
ReplyDeleteThought I would respond to both of you at once. First, thank you for your responses. So much fun to read your interpretations and ideas. Second, thank you, Joe, for the heads up on "sashay." I know there is a similar word for a wreath-like necklace. Maybe I was thinking about the circularity of a sash. Whatever was on my mind, I'm going to change the word. Thanks, Chairman.
As you both suspected, there is an awakening here. But from what? The statue represents the arrested life of a person suffering from depression. There is a sudden waking up after a long period of immersion in darkness and hopelessness -- even paralysis of motion and thought. I do not bring in any suggestion of why the awakening happens; that doesn't matter, rather it's the waking up itself that is the point. The serpent represents the poison of depression, slithering, silent, deadly. A tension exists between the waking woman and the serpent. Will the snake again overwhelm her with depression's poison? Will she overcome the threat? So, Steve, you picked up the importance of the poison and its relation to awakening -- or death.
Joe, you have captured the essence of the return to lightness and living. And yes, the tear shows that the woman has returned to humanity and feeling in contrast to her stone-like existence with depression. Finally, she actually moves, steps out of her coma-like existence, and takes charge of her direction as she takes her first steps in a very long time. And what does she do with her first "pathing"? Naturally, she crushes the most vital (and poisonous) part of the serpent - the head.
So, there you have it. At its heart, this is actually a simple poem about a life-sapping and life-renewing cycle. Thank you for appreciating both this simplicity and the available deeper layers.
Next up: "Red Silk" where I will definitely check my word choices.
JPS