RE: oh, how I’ve learned

[boxcarblue]

Thanks. I don’t know that anyone has ever commented on the photographs in these posts before.

I went to a mushroom farm yesterday. There was a lot to take pictures of. 😊

Comments

[owasco]

I've never commented on your photographs?! I've always appreciated them. You have a great eye for composition and color.

Your talk about haiku is wonderful!

I think you get this very well:

Basho replied that what he most valued was the poem’s “ordinariness.” He had come almost full circle from the densely allusive Chinese style into a truly elegant simplicity that was in no way frivolous.

I've tried to express this to you before about your poems, but here goes again: you find the profound in everyday moments, and manage to bring that profundity to me as a reader thousands of miles away. That there is serious magic.

oh, how I’ve learned
sparks cool before they hit the floor
honey, I’m home

Been there, felt that!! Great use of language, especially the word "sparks" one syllable packed with multiple meanings. This one is my favorite of the batch.

[boxcarblue]

You have a tendency to choose the poems that I’m least sure about, and that I fuss over the most. 🤣

Part of me feels like the last line of that poem is cliche and too big of a leap from the beginning of the poem, and part of me feels like it’s just right.

I can’t decide.

But I like that it can be read in a cyclical way (at least I imagine that it can be), and that it can also be read in an endearing way (again, I think it can be read in such a way).

In one way, it sounds like it might be a poem of frustration, a person coming home to a loveless relationship and being snarky.

In another way, if one follows the first line about learning and believes it, you can see the poem as being about another kind of love, one that exists outside of/beyond what we often think of as (passion-fueled) love.

The spark is gone, but I’m happy to come home to you, and I still love you enough to call you Honey.

[owasco]

An anticipation of being home, that dissipates, somewhat, with the arrival. A long marriage, with affection, but not the delight on meeting again that they once felt. Maybe the kids were screaming, or the dog had left a present by the front door, or the mail held a huge bill. Love the last line! It's triteness speaks to me of both mundane and glorious things. Brings the first line of learning back into the poem.