The Heart of our town

The Heart of our town

It's snake-like birth

amidst mud and reed

a beginning 

but the blood flows

expands/grows

and the silken shimmer of

retreating otters

and the kingfishers blues

and the home to lost poets

of the discarded and damaged

she flows

     she flows

and Caravaggio on the bridge

       joint in hand

shadowed and shat/spat on

by the errant heron's call

   and the curve

           and the curve

of the fluid neck of swan

and the call of the gull

hungry

but salmon leap

    but salmon leap

and the mouth of sea

a willing embrace

a lover's kiss with a hint

of salt

the heart of this town

she flows          she goes

she floods the pedestrian

the drinkers of whisky and silt

and amidst our chaos

                       (our chaos)

                    she flows

                          she flows

Reviews

[Eilis]

I love the idea of the river as heart and origin. When I took World History in my undergrad studies, I had this professor who would never teach by the book. He was a Bukowski type, always waltzing in in a tatty corduroy blazer and jeans with a pair of biker boots. Would have lectured with a cigarette flapping between his lips if he’d been permitted to, I think.

Anyway, the first essay he made us write had to do with the river as origin of organized civilization. He called it the water theory of history. And it boiled down to human groups being dependent on the life blood of the river in order to build any kind of semblance of order around them. The agrarian beginnings of man and everything grew out from there because people didn’t have to spend all their time searching for food anymore. They were cultivating it and in doing so cultivating the human spirit as well.

So, your lovely ode to river here reminded me of that. Of the heartbeat of things we maybe take for granted. Things that were at one point one of the factors that stood between the life or death of a settlement.

But here, there’s a gentler understanding. The river cuts through and as it does it brings joy and movement and mind/heart food for contemplation. Man still feels himself drawn to those banks even though his life is somewhat more far removed from the pulse of it.

I especially love the wildlife observations. I love watching water birds and otters and this took me back to those places where I can do the and all that matters at the moment is being there among it. It’s a beautiful thing. Also particularly like the way you personify the ocean and the meeting of ocean and river. The salted kiss and willing embrace. Both perhaps dangerous if we aren’t mindful of our interactions with river, with water. But alluring nevertheless. The pull.

Just thought this was super poetry. Has all the elements I love in a poem. And an inarticulatable pull. Probably one of my favorites of yours.

[gram linski]

wow, thanks, Eilis, your uncle Buck prof was right most civilian society gravitates to water, it's 90 percent of our being, a life blood so there is a natural calling, there's a wee river that flows through town that has been my companion through the good the mad and the dangerous to know times, and she is there whenever, a constant flow and she has seen all sides of me and still she is there, been inspiring my poetry for many a year

[Beccy]

The affinity we have with water has never been more beautifully articulated. To sit on the banks of a river, observe it's flow, to be lulled by its sound, is utter bliss. I am fortunate that just on the edge of the village where I live, there is a quite lovely stream, well, more a brook really, and Charlie and I often take our dog Holly for a wander down to where it runs.

Every line of your poem is a unique joy; and I was particularly taken by your reference to Caravaggio, 'joint in hand,' and doubtless at peace with himself as he stared down into the water. It instantly put me in mind of his painting 'Narcissus;' and gave me pause, that from the time of the ancients, water has gifted not only life, but also the magical ability to see ourselves as we truly are.

Beccy.

[gram linski]

thanks, Beccy, aye it's a great joy of mine to sit by the river and let it's flow ease the stress of life, and the great man could well have been gazing at his reflection trying to see his soul, could just be watching the ducks, mind you, lol, glad you enjoyed appreciate the read

[emmajoy]

' and the curve - and the curve - of the fluid neck of swan - ' .. and the call of the gull - hungry - but salmon leap - but salmon leap .. '

There writes the human being who rests in a world full of living.. as it should be.. without neon, without flaws. Peaceful be and real. Your words flow so calmly and visually, And that's needed in this hugger-mugger of a mess right now.

Living not far from the sea, a beloved pond and right now an air of promise, the flow of history, the need for grace of water is more and crazily dear to me. In Feng Shui, one is supposed to have a mountain behind one, water before.. all i need is a slightly large mountain.. hill.. but a rise will do, for now. Many thanks for sharing your words.. a grand addition to what might be a touch of calmness today.

[gram linski]

hey, emmajoy, thanks for the great review, aye there are some lovely quiet spots on the river, even through town you can zone out and feel a little sense of calm flow through your bones, go and build a small mud heap in the garden and your Feng Shui will be complete, lol, thanks for reading , I appreciate your comments

[emmajoy]

I might well make that small mud heap tomorrow... what a laughing suggestion - and, why not!

[barleygirl]

You are great at repeating phrases to effect a certain feel & purpose to your message, the pause, the emphasis you bring, makes us stop & ponder the scene for a moment. I love that you describe a town in terms of the nature surrounding & within, more than people/structures. The human stuff changes but the natural essence lives on. Being near the coast myself, I really feel how ocean life defines a locale & you've captured that with grace (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

[gram linski]

thanks, Margie, aye I tried to keep away from the ugly parts of town, lol, this is a companion piece to the shed one if that clears it up a little, thus the man on the bridge motif,

[Chris Shaw]

I was born within half a mile of the Thames. I still live close to it now , albeit 40 miles upstream. It courses through my veins, so I had a real affinity with your poem. Particularly appealing, the wildlife. We are boaters, so spend a great deal of time in the summer cruising it's meandering path. Fascinating too its history and your poem gave me a sense of the history of your town and its river connections. I really enjoyed this write and the metaphors used. Some lovely imagery too.

Chris

[gram linski]

thanks Chris, lucky you, lived on a boat for a bit and the gentle lull of the wave is a tranquil thing

[R.E. Ray]

Gram, it's difficult to follow an Eilis review. She's captured so much (much more than I saw but is certainly true).

I live near the Ohio River, one of the major rivers in the eastern US. When I need to reflect and get away, I go there and sit on the banks. I'm reminded how small I am. How my existence matters not to the river or the other big natural things that have been here centuries before me. That's what I take from this one. It's a constant, in and out, carrier of life (and poisons of industry and populations). I think the river is the constant order in our chaos. She's slow, steady and deep. Her power is something we often don't appreciate or respect.

[gram linski]

thanks, man, aye she has been my happy place for many years just to go and sit and think or just be or immersed in the sound of the natural world, appreciate the review,