mardi 2 décembre 2008

Letter to my son

i've been looking for my youngest son for several months; i figured he was alive and well, wherever he was. and i found him where? myspace (of course).
reading one of the poems on his blog, i heard strong traces of my own language, rhythms, rhymes and repetitions, and i thought, could poetry be part of our genetic inheritance or did he simply hear enough of my voice that it became an intrinsic part of his own? someday we might isolate a poetry gene: would that all the world could have it or be damned by having it! it depends on the poetic vision, and i believe that all voices are needed. my son's poem spoke of optimism and hope, leaving behind sadness and failure and grasping the future from atop a starlit hill. i echoed his sensibility in the note i left him. i felt changed.

think you're gonna do it, bébé/ over the hump and into the ready/ following your heart or your foot, doesn't matter/ what matters is the journey to it/ when you get to the top, jump up/ catch a star, or better, create one/ the least important thing is the past/ the most important thing is truth/ and love's the brightest star of all that burns so hot/ it's petrol, nothing lasts without it/ or comes of any good because/ it's what the stars are made of in this world/ the stars that outlast death and birth/ where is is and was was and/ there's no time like the present to be born/ now as the great transitive chord reaches across/ eons of pain and wipes them out with a silver blade/ and we look down from the mount and then raise our glasses/ to the thing that gives all joy and sacrifice/ love, more than a wonder drug /love, the one element that ain't retrograde/ it's ahead of its game, it's a paved highway/ straight through the heart of darkness to the light/ and to the city on the hill where we'll dance/ to celebrate the second coming of love incarnate/ you're gonna do it, bébé, you're gonna be there to see it

love you, bébé.

4 commentaires:

Ron B. a dit…

This was sad, touching and inspirational. Because of my own family history, I was determined to be a good enough (single) parent to my children. I forced both from the nest when they had no plan or direction. I didn't want to be their friend and thought my responsibility included making them responsible. It's all good now but there were some dark days.

maxbeta3zaman a dit…

my answer is yes , I found my mother writing (slang)poems , asking me to write them in a nice handwritng ,to save them in her notebook , her poems was so warm an loving that I was deeply affected by poems ,she even wrote a poem to remind us of her after death , moreover her father ( my grand father )was a very talanted poet too , I found him writing a very vived poem to record the day of my birth being the first boy next to five sisters, so I think in my case it is genetic

Moineau En France a dit…

even your commentary is poetic, max! i'll reiterate, i would love to read even a verse or two if you have the time and desire to translate yourself for me! i am moved by your poetic sensibility and heart. the greatest poetry is heart, don't you think? so i would like to have the chance to read you. suddenly, my french seems utterly insufficient as it often does facing the beautiful languages of this world. there are two other languages i wish i knew: italian and arabici but i don't have enough time left to become proficient in them. i wish i could read every language in the original. few great poets are even know due to the language barriers. xoxoxox ~laura

Atomic Lies a dit…

That was so beautiful. Your spirit is breath taking.