The BlueIris Semi-Nightly Poetry Break, 2/17/08

[BlueIris]

"Oh, the Water"

You are the hero of this poem,
the one who leans into the night
and shoulders the stars, smoking
a cigarette you've sworn is your last
before reeling the children into bed.

Or you're the first worker on the line,
lifting labeled crates onto the dock,
brown arms bare to the elbow,
your shirt smelling of seaweed and soap.

You're the oldest daughter
of an exhausted mother, an inconsolable
father, sister to the stones thrown down
on your path. You're the brother
who warms his own brother's bottle,
whose arm falls asleep along the rail of his crib.

We've stood next to you in the checkout line,
watched you flip through tabloids or stare
at the face on the TV Guide as if it were the moon,
your cart full of cereal, toothpaste, shampoo,
day-old bread, bags of gassed fruit,
frozen pizzas on sale for 2.99.

In the car you might slide in a tape,
listen to Van Morrison sing Oh, the water.
You stop at the light and hum along, alone.

When you slam the trunk in the driveway,
spilling the groceries, dropping your keys,
you're someone's love, their one brave hope;

and if they don't run to greet you or help
with the load, they can hear you,
they know you've come home.

—Dorianne Laux

[Tuesday Afternoon]

1. yeah

kinda scary.

edited to add: Let it rain on me, anyway :D

[BlueIris]

2. Heh.

Way to be positive. This poem made me cry the first time I read it.

[Tuesday Afternoon]

3. it is sadness on top, but underneath

there is a strength to it. The song it references is (to me) where the strength comes:
(I could not separate the poem from the song)

Half a mile from the county fair
And the rain keep pourin down
Me and billy standin there
With a silver half a crown
Hands are full of a fishin rod
And the tackle on our backs
We just stood there gettin wet
With our backs against the fence

Oh, the water
Oh, the water
Oh, the water
Hope it dont rain all day

And it stoned me to my soul
Stoned me just like jelly roll
And it stoned me
And it stoned me to my soul
Stoned me just like goin home
And it stoned me

Then the rain let up and the sun came up
And we were gettin dry
Almost let a pick-up truck nearly pass us by
So we jumped right in and the driver grinned
And he dropped us up the road
We looked at the swim and we jumped right in
Not to mention fishing poles

Oh, the water
Oh, the water
Oh, the water
Let it run all over me

On the way back home we sang a song
But our throats were getting dry
Then we saw the man from across the road
With the sunshine in his eyes
Well he lived all alone in his own little home
With a great big gallon jar
There were bottles too, one for me and you
And he said hey! there you are

Oh, the water
Oh, the water
Oh, the water
Get it myself from the mountain stream

[demmiblue]

4. This one gave me goosebumps!

Thank you for posting it!

:hi:

[BlueIris]

5. Sure thing.

Doriann is grand.

[RetroLounge]

6. OMG! Too funny...

You posted Dorianne and I posted Kim...

(for those unaware, the 2 of them wrote a great book together on the process of poetry)

thanks for this poem!

RL

[BlueIris]

8. I'm surprised that doesn't happen more often.

:-)

[RainDog]

7. a picture

I see the movement of this moment down the lines of the poem. this is sweetness.

...oh yeah, let me add... a poem with a father who smokes?? he certainly doesn't deserve to live or have kids.. :sarcasm: what world do we live in now, when private foibles elicit screams and laws, but torturers and fascists go unpunished?