“Twelve in Yellow-Weed at the Edge” by Cynthia Cruz
https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/poems/detail/56951 Apologies to those who had to “suffer” through my last blog post, it got away from me a bit… or a lot. The brain is a strange wandering place not a “book to be opened at will and examined at leisure.” Couldn’t resist quoting a little bit of Snape there but anyways, upon first glance at this poem I feel kind of hollow inside. Everything seems so desolate and wasted. This world created for the sake of expressing emotions pulls me in and seems to suck out my very interior. This world was so beautifully crafted by the vivid images it expresses. The poem starts abruptly with the arrival of police. Immediately a million questions run through my head.What happened? Why was it important the person not be found? What would have happened if the person had been found? Now that’s the way to start, well... almost anything. I was immediately captured and held prisoner by my inquiries, prompting me to read further. After this dramatic beginning, the parade of images does not end. There is a strong overtone of the color yellow, brought out by describing the girl’s disguise as “champagne” and the Appalachia wind as “gold.” To me this conjures up images of wide, empty grass plains, places where you can literally see the wind, places perfect for concealing individuals, whole communities, and even secrets. The view zooms out at this point, no longer focused on just the hiding of the girl, but her surroundings. She seems to be a part of a trailer park community, suggesting she and her family are in a poor situation. The trailer park is referred to as “the poor girl’s underworld” implying that you need to be well off to go to the “proper underworld.” It’s interesting to me that Cruz uses the word “underworld” instead of “hell.” Underworld has a much more neutral connotation, it could be good or bad or even both to go there depending upon what you believe. It seems to me that this girl doesn’t view her poor situation as explicitly good or bad, just existing. This apathy, I guess you could call it, adds to the overall emptiness and desolation of the poem. Zoom out more. It’s nighttime. The stars are described as a “kingdom of lanterns.” Could there be a more accurate description of a clear night sky? A lantern dimmer than a lightbulb as the stars are dimmer than the sun. A kingdom with each star represented by a single subject with what I would like to believe the moon ruling over them all. Usually night offers a concealing blanket. Night is time for things that would be too dangerous to do during daylight. It appears the hiders, including the girl, are using the cover of night to protect their secrets. Their plight is brought back to the foreground in the next line, “how we waited, how we hid.” The “we” is where the idea of a few or maybe even many people hiding came from. The structure of these two simple three word phrases seems to stretch the waiting and hiding out over an endless time period. I have no idea how long they were hiding for, but I get the idea that it seemed to be an eternity. Now we’ve reached the final line. “Like wolves, in the revolving question of a field.” I’m hit with the image of wolves lurking in a grass field before preying on some small unsuspecting creature. I feel like this projects a better idea of how the hiders felt while waiting for whatever was coming. The final question, what was coming? It may be the threat of police as brought up at the beginning of the poem. But the final phrase is intriguing. It seems the question, the threat one may say, is constantly changing, constantly evolving to instill despair and hopelessness in those seeking protection from it. Even after all this analyzing I still feel despair and desolation. The power of this poem is in its description that builds a dome around you and entraps you in this golden grass, dark, uncertain world. Perhaps this is a reflection of our lives. There are constant and ever changing threats. We take solace in the cover of darkness. We hide our true selves or disguise ourselves to “protect” our innermost thoughts. And with that knowledge, maybe now we can answer those pestering questions still invading my brain and yours.
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“Self-Portrait” by Cynthia Cruz
https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems-and-poets/poems/detail/56784#poem Hmmmmm…. “Self-portrait,” that means we probably need a bit of background on the poet. Cynthia Cruz is a German born American poet with a German mother and a Mexican American father. She grew up in California and is the first person in her family to go to college. She has published various writing and taught and various schools. Currently she lives in Brooklyn and teaches writing at Sarah Lawrence College. With that bit of biography in mind, let’s dive into this poem. Bam, immediately the first line reveals some meaning in the poem, “I did not want my body.” Personally, no follow up to this statement is needed to gain some meaning of it. The use of “I” makes it immediately clear who is in charge here. This poem is not about someone or something controlling someone or something else, it is about the individual taking a stand for something they want or in this case do not want. We need to remember this sense of control as we continue reading this poem. The next few lines add clarity to this bold first statement. “Spackled in the world’s black beads and broke diamonds,” this is what the individual does not want. Dissecting this, you have the use of the world “spackled” which means to repair a hole. You spackle a wall, however you do not spackle a person or at least you don’t use that term in reference to people. We can repair holes and “holes” in people. Holes like wounds can be treated and emotional holes heal with time and support. But that isn’t what the world Cruz refers to is doing. They are trying to “fix” these people with “black beads and broke diamonds,” or in other terms materialistic promises. Money. Fame. Society’s acceptance. There’s another problem with this as well. By using “black” and “broke” to describe these things, it reinforces the idea that not only will this not work, but the world knows it will not work. Trying to “spackle” these people together was doomed from the beginning. This idea is further emphasized in the last few words of the first stanza into the second stanza, “What the world wanted, I did not.” Everyone else is content to let the world try to fix them with its honeyed words and materialistic promises, but this one individual is again asserting their control over their own body. And there are no maybes here, it is all absolute. But why is this one individual unhappy about the world’s almighty power? Something must have happened, to make this individual aware of the unfair control the world has. People don’t change unless something drastic happens to bring light to that situation. Now there’s a bit of a shift in the poem from the simple general statement of not wanting what the world wants to listing what the world wants. The world wants, “the body of Sunday morning,” “dripping fox furs,” “the parked car, and “pearls.” All of these things combined with a New York setting are reminiscent of rich socialites, always ready for a party. I for some reason conjure up images of the 1920’s and the fantastic parties exhibited in The Great Gatsby. Perhaps it is due to the body description which reminds me of the lithe flappers, or the fox furs and pearls of all the splendour present. Regardless of what era this list conjures up, it is hard to see why this individual would not want this world. I mean who wouldn’t want to be rich enough to afford furs and pearls and classy enough to be strolling the streets of New York with them. That sounds like living the dream. However, the poem is assumed to be a self-portrait given the title of it, so we must take into account Cruz’s background. She was German-born and grew up in California which is vastly different from New York. She had German influence from her mother and Latino influence from her father who also happened to be a field worker. Being the first to go to college in her family, she probably was not spoon fed glamorous dreams of New York, but rather the goal to work hard and achieve an education. Perhaps she is so adamantly against the world’s wishes because she feels like it glosses over the wishes of those who are different. By making generalizations and blanket demands, this world loses some of its individuality. This individuality is what this individual wants to take back. The poem shifts again in the last stanza to refer to what this picky individual wants. This individual wants “Saint Francis, the love of his animals.” Not being schooled in the Catholic faith, I had to look up Saint Francis in order to understand the last stanza. Saint Francis was an incredibly dedicated friar and preacher who gave up on all worldly pleasures to preach to the people. Giving up on the world in reference to its materialistic substances is found in this poem as the individual rejects what the world wants. Saint Francis is also considered the Patron Saint of Ecology which references the love of his animals. In the final two lines, the individual identifies exactly who they are. “The wolf, broken and bleeding-that was me.” This also has references to Saint Francis and Catholicism. According to folklore, a wolf was terrorizing the town and St. Francis took pity on them and went to talk with the wolf. St. Francis made a pact with the wolf and the townspeople so that the people would feed the wolf in return for the wolf not hurting the townspeople. So the individual identifies as this wolf, but the wolf is not whole and happy, it is broken and bleeding. This makes it sound like the individual is struggling with creating peace between themselves and the world. This individual does not feel the love between the world and them, but they want the love that is found between St. Francis and his nature. The relationships and viewpoints in this poem are so complex and there’s so many and I apologize that this post got away from me so let’s recap a bit. First, there is a strong sense of control throughout the whole poem developed from the use of the word “I.” The individual is taking control of their own life. Second, the individual expressly declines what the world offers, which could be tied into Cruz’s own background. And finally, the individual expresses who they see themselves as in the final stanza. They are this wolf found in folklore of Saint Francis. They have not benefitted from society but rather been damaged by the relationship. Perhaps if we all examine ourselves we may find the damaging effect society and the world has had on us. |
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July 2017
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