Thursday, November 5, 2015

A Nip of Poetry

Hello,
I just finished reading Ray Bradbury's novella "Somewhere a Band is Playing," and it featured a rather lovely poem. The more mystical elements of the poem are specifically referencing the town in which the story took place (which is a mystical town indeed,) but while I was reading it I couldn't help but feel it applied to Hilo quite nicely as well. I feel as though this poem captures the Hilo that I have been experiencing, with its slowed-down pace, it's feel of timelessness and loneliness and community and frustration and rain and ocean and compassion. Anyways, without further ado:

Somewhere a band is playing,
Playing the strangest tunes,
Of sunflower seeds and sailors
Who tide with the strangest moons.

Somewhere a drummer simmers
And trembles with times forlorn,
Remembering days of summer
In futures yet unborn.

Futures so far they are ancient
And filled with Egyptian dust,
That smell of the tomb and lilac,
And seed that is spent from lust,

And peach that is hung on a tree branch
Far out in the sky from one’s reach
There mummies as lovely as lobsters
Remember old futures and teach

And children sit by on the stone floor
And draw their lives out in the sands,
Remembering deaths that won’t happen
In futures unseen in far lands.

Somewhere a band is playing
Where the moon never sets in the sky
And nobody sleeps in the summer
And nobody puts down to die;

And Time then just goes on forever
And hearts then continue to beat
To the sound of the old moon-drum humming
And the glide of Eternity’s feet;

Somewhere the old people wander
And linger themselves into noon
And sleep in the wheat fields yonder
To rise as fresh children with moon.

Somewhere the children, old, maunder
And know what it is to be dead
And turn in their weeping to ponder
Oblivious field ‘neath their bed.

And sit at the long dining table
Where Life makes a banquet of flesh,
Where dis-able makes itself able
And spoiled puts on new masks of fresh.

Somewhere a band is playing
Oh listen, oh listen, that tune!
If you learn it you’ll dance on forever
In June…
And yet June…
And more…June…
And Death will be dumb and not clever
And Death will lie silent forever
In June and June and more June.

One kiss and all time’s your dominion
One touch and no death can be cold.
One night puts off graveyard opinion
One hour and you’ll never grow old.

Drink deep of the wine of forever
Drink long of eternity’s stuff
Where everyman’s learned and clever,
And two billion loves not enough.

Somewhere a band is playing,
Playing the strangest tunes,
Of  sunflower seeds and sailors,
Who tide with the strangest moons.

Somewhere a band is playing
Listen, O, listen, that tune?
In June and yet June and more…June.
--Ray Bradbury

Now that that poem got you all nice and warmed up, I thought I would be horrifically self-indulgent and share one of mine. It is from a while ago, which I think makes it less arrogant to share (yes? no?) I have been writing a lot in my journal lately, which I have had since I was about 8. It contains so many thoughts from throughout my life, most especially from my teenage years. Those parts of the journal are, of course, rife with my own tormented adolescent personal dramas, as well as some surprisingly poignant poems (but everyone is a fan of their own poetry, no?) I was rifling through my old words and came across one poem in particular that struck me as rather beautifully apt for my time in Hawaii. It's as though my younger self knew I would be here one day, and needed me to be here. Anyways, here it is:

Waves upon waves
Of mahogany tide
Floating suspended
Shifting inside
My thoughts scatter
The fish that hide
Gazing outward,
Along for the ride.

Limitless moon
Match sighing stars
Dripping with salt
That stings my scars
Messages elapse
Stuffed inside drawers 
Memories survive
Travelling afar.

Afraid to begin 
Afraid of fear
Boats soar by,
Unaware I’m near
Contemplating life
Laying with tears
The water reflects
My heart as a mirror.

Complete in myself,
A hole without you,
The ocean carries me
Right on cue
Towards a harmony 
Way over due
A land full of sand
With nothing to do.
--16 year old Catherine

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