Sometimes the poorest man leaves his children the richest inheritance.
~Ruth E. Renkel
photo by: me 5/18/2008
she sits demurely
on the first rise of the ridge,
surrounded on all sides
by the modern day
equivalent of beauty..
in silence,, she watches
as they adorn themselves
in strings of pearl white light,
exuding the electrical exuberance
of life,, as it courses thru their veins..
they flash glassy toothed smiles
from behind their freshly painted lips
and dangle their million dollar birthrights,
like golden charms
around the unlined throats
of their youth…
she sits demurely
on the first rise of the ridge,
long past the vigor of her youth-
draped,, as she is
in natures own finery
lit only by the slender rays
of the at best,, beguiling
morning sun.. yet
knowing all the while
that they share with her
their only true inheritance..
that of rotting flesh and rusting bone
and the eventual return
to the womb of mother nature
that which has rightfully been hers,,
all along….
authors side note: i took this piece and printied it (photo and all) and thumbtacked it to the structure in the photo, a bit of guerrilla poetry, if you will.. don’t know if it will be read or in the case that it is, be understood… but i just felt it was the right thing to do…. if anything comes of it,, i will let you know….
for cafe writing
May 19th, 2008 at 7:35 am
Well put. No matter what we do, we all end up the same way.
May 19th, 2008 at 8:13 am
We are really all the same! xxoo
May 19th, 2008 at 9:16 am
Beautifully written Paisley. The photo was wonderful too.
May 19th, 2008 at 9:52 am
Yes, a well-put reminder! And your photos are gorgeous! You must be having fun taking them. I love old, paint-peeling things.
May 19th, 2008 at 10:13 am
Yes, you are very good at photography, very lush and beautiful photo. This is a very moving piece, I really like the juxtaposition in the two stanzas. Lovely.
May 19th, 2008 at 5:48 pm
well said…this poem speaks the truth…we all end up in the same place
May 19th, 2008 at 6:27 pm
Comparing youth to age, and so vividly, yet remembering where we all end up. Your writing is becoming ever more powerful. I wonder if adding photography as another art form is liberating you as a poet? Sure seems so.
May 19th, 2008 at 11:54 pm
Not sure why but I just love the “she sits demurely” refrain. It’s so elegent and touching - I want to use that now in a story!
May 20th, 2008 at 4:39 am
from whensdt we came, so shall we return
to come again
May 20th, 2008 at 2:38 pm
goodgoodgood
May 20th, 2008 at 6:07 pm
as my husband would say, ‘truer words were never spoke’.
May 20th, 2008 at 7:04 pm
This was beautiful, and great photo too.
May 21st, 2008 at 6:26 am
I am very interested to hear if anyone responds to your guerilla tactics. How fabulous if another poet responded!
May 21st, 2008 at 8:22 am
Your photo is wonderful. Can’t wait to hear results of your guerilla tactics. Maybe a conversation will start, even if it is not one we all are privy to.
May 21st, 2008 at 9:50 am
I like the term “guerilla poetry.” I used to have my students “publish” their poems in places as well — outside around the school, in unexpected places in the classroom. It’s cool and they loved it. Adding yours to this place makes it even more beautiful than it already is.
May 21st, 2008 at 3:30 pm
i like the guerilla poetry idea too. and i love the effects of the passage time and weather upon surfaces, and the way the deeper parts of things, and life and ourselves are touched or not touched… or are touched/not touched…
May 21st, 2008 at 7:10 pm
Isn’t it the truth. We truly are all one in the same. More than most of us probably realize.
May 24th, 2008 at 3:17 am
The poem and photo are amazing. It reminds me of the medieval works about vanity — you know, all is vanity because it will all turn to dust someday…maybe someone should print it out and attach it to one of the giant McMansions they keep building around here.
November 8th, 2008 at 1:36 pm
[...] 1. Inheritance, by Paisley 2. Abyss, by Areet Krsna 3. Goddess Gaia, by Rebecca [...]