Aug 10, 2017 Original Poetry
Reading a Script in Revere
©August 10th, 2017
By Vijaya Sundaram
Marshlands stretch towards the horizon,
Quiet under a darkening sky.
Gold-red-green-white lights blink
In faraway, receding Boston,
While behind me, the sea lies still
Beneath an orange moon, which rises lyrical
And lush, a pale grapefruit swollen with air,
While eight of us, earnest, intent,
Read through the lines of a play
That unfolds, surreal and nightmarish,
Full of mute early twentieth century terror
Disguised as domestic foreboding in 2015.
Meanwhile a resurgent reality washes
And swirls around our feet,
As the forces of destruction marshal their forces
Far away, but not far enough away, from us.
Still, we keep reading, and the evening coalesces.
We keep reading, because to not do so
In the face of what is coming,
To not think, or speak up, or act
In the face of that which approaches,
Will undo us all. And in reading,
We resist an approaching paralysis.
The sea moves slowly along the shore,
The marshlands send forth their mosquitoes
The director’s Papillon comes up,
Offering blank canine sweetness
For a few tail-wagging moments.
Crackers and cheese, and lemonade and wine
Chips and dips, and chocolate cake, and
After-script-reading conversation,
Remind me that in belonging to civilization,
We have to be able to excise that which wounds us all.
A paintbrush is more than a paintbrush.
A pen is more than a pen.
A picture is more than a picture.
Words are more than their meaning,
Yes – but if we do not see the true face
Of that suave Visitor from other times,
Whose honeyed voice awakens us
To false and incomplete notions of purity,
Who lulls our suspicions with talk of
A thousand years of a golden age,
Who talks of music and art and literature
But with a sub-textual menace,
We are doomed.
_______________________________________________________________________
Tags: #OriginalPoetrybyVijayaSundaram, #Reading a Script, #Resistance
Apr 9, 2013 Awake in Real Time: Coffee-induced Meditations and Journal Entries, Original Poetry, Reading, Writing, Thinking, Teaching and Learning
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3o8jL1BXMdk]
Response to “Pigeon” by Anthony Green
©Vijaya Sundaram
April 9th, 2013
[The above YouTube video shows the film “Pigeon” by Anthony Green. This was the prompt I put up today on my “smartboard” in class (we have been studying books set in the Nazi-Holocaust period for the past few weeks). Students watched this 11-minute film and then we had a discussion about the significance of the different acts of kindness or unkindness in the film. We also discussed the symbolism in all the visuals (I don’t want to go all school-teacherish on you here), as well as the arresting imagery, acting and directing.
This was followed by a writing assignment. Students had to write a poem-response to this film, telling the story itself, or using the larger symbolism to zoom in on what moved them. They were deeply affected by the film, and the poems they came up with were beautiful.
I told them that I, too, would write while they wrote. So, I managed to write in four out of five of my class periods today.] Here is the first of the four poems I wrote (unedited, sorry, no time to tweak things. Will do that later):
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Shema Yisrael
Response poem to the film “Pigeon”
©Vijaya Sundaram
April 9th, 2013
Shema Yisrael
Stranded on the island
I await my deliverance
Shema Yisrael
Pigeon at my feet
Crumbs for its survival
Shema Yisrael
I have lost all, lost all
My papers, my self, my life.
Shema Yisrael
I try and sidestep my fate
Waiting is my wasteland
Shema Yisrael
Here are guards, inexorable as death
I die by degrees, in a sweat of fear
Shema Yisrael
Angel in human form sees
My loss, transforms into demoness
Shema Yisrael
I had a wife, and now a new one,
Who beats me about the shoulders.
Shema Yisrael
Guards aim death at her, “Papers!”
She mocks me, her “husband.”
Shema Yisrael
They laugh at us, mock me; they see she
“Wears the pants,” and then they leave.
Shema Yisrael
Bless this angel of mercy, this wife
Who delivered me from death, from hell
Shema Yisrael
May her act not go unnoticed
May she find a place among the angels.
Shema Yisrael
May the pigeons and doves among us
Find their saviors, may they fly in peace.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The End ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sh’ma Yisrael Adonai Eloheinu Adonai Eḥad
(Hear, O Israel: the Lord is our God, the Lord is One)
Disclaimer: I am not a Jewish person, nor a believer of any sort. However, I believe deeply in the power of prayer to steady ourselves, when we’re cast afloat, rudderless, on an open sea. It’s a centering mechanism. It’s good. It can only calm us, not hurt us.
Tags: #humanity, #kindness, #NaPoWriMo, #Resistance, #Teaching, Deliverance, Goodness, Mercy, poem-response to film "Pigeon" by Anthony Green, Shema