There's an old farmer's tale called
"The Cheatgrass and the Scythe,"
where we give gratitude to
our pendulum hands
Every spring,
the cheatgrass creeps near
like a thief that steals,
crop quality and yield
All afternoon the farmer scythes,
green crooked wands
till they lean upon death
Acre after acre,
scything becomes
methodical
then again, so does grieving
Consider the farmer's heart,
palsied by grief
as the color of misery
animates in his cheeks
and in his eyes, going the way
of the oak,
where they found
his beloved,
hung by a garden hose.
Each dawn he mumbles
the old farmer's tale,
while his heart must carve
through each of its agonies
over and over, until it feels.
I've been posting this as a question on other sites the last few days if that's what you mean. But this poem has not been published before, and it is my original work. Sheesh, who knows, I may trash the whole thing!!
I like it very much, wherever it's from.
My favourite poet at this moment is August Kleinzahler, I've just received 'Hotel Oneira' - it's terrific.
Michael Robbins says of him in the Chicago Tribune; "If you're unfamiliar with his work.....start somewhere, for God's sake - you're missing out on one hell of a racket."
Quite true!!
May I echo Allen, please. I didn't know what 'cheatgrass' was and had to look it up - although the general implication was clear.
I found some lovely phrases in the poem (really evocative, not being nice), but they were interspersed with jarring language e.g. 'Consider the farmer's heart,' (appreciate the intent of focusing the idea). Perhaps something on the lines of 'the farmer's heart withers'? Can't really help too much - you are a poet! :)
Likening the everyday grief of the farmer to the ever returning cheatgrass is very moving and thought provoking. The term 'garden hose' jarrs with the old time feel of the poem. Maybe just 'hung (hanged) by a noose of hemp' or something similar might be more in keeping?
According to Wiki cheatgrass is a native of Europe !
"Bromus tectorum, known as drooping brome or cheat grass, is a grass native to Europe, southwestern Asia and northern Africa, [i] but has become invasive in many other areas." [i]
But changing it to Couch Grass might improve the poems acceptance in the UK.