Herculean (poem)

So many things have happened that no one knows about.
They didn't make the news. They left no artifacts.
They didn't live to tell the tale, or were considered unremarkable
at the time.

The exhibitionist on the bridge,
The other robbery,
The haunting melody,
The courageous village
and the father of three—

All buried under nothingness,
swallowed by forgetfulness,
Nobody's cautionary tale. Nobody's allegory.

But if I'm quiet for a minute -—
If I open my hands, and listen,
My heart flashes.

Like recalling where the exit was, having passed it just a moment ago;
Like looking down at a hurricane, gazing into its white funnel,
I am reading the Chronicle,
Singing along with Troubadours,
Reported and reporting on the Network News.

Everything is everything and I don't wish to smooth it,
Only to infuse it
With the knowledge of its own unpublished grace—
The memory of the gift it gave itself.

Comments: 11

mona d. Jun 15, 2007, 10:34am EDT

oh penina, this is exquisite. you take us on a thoughtful journey and inject these little gems that only a true poet can invent - especially the last two lines. thank you for this wonderful read.

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Penina F. Jun 17, 2007, 9:17am EDT

Thanks, Mona! I am so glad you enjoyed this.

I've got a lot of work right now (which is good), so I'm only dipping in a little. It is nice look and find your delightful and thoughtful comments.

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Barbary Chaapel Jun 21, 2007, 9:45pm EDT

I love your thoughts and perspective, Pennina.
Especially "my heart flashes."
Thanks for taking the time to give us this.

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Nanina Hawk Jun 29, 2007, 2:18pm EDT

This is exquisite!

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Penina F. Jun 30, 2007, 9:50am EDT

Thanks, Barbary and Nanina, for stopping by and giving it a read!

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Richard Melendez Jun 30, 2007, 2:50pm EDT

Penina... Captivating and haunting... creating a mood in us that gives us much to ponder as we reach poem's end. Beautiful.

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Richard Melendez Jun 30, 2007, 2:55pm EDT

Oh... I also love the title as in our day-to-day the smallest things can often give the biggest impact.

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Penina F. Jul 1, 2007, 10:13am EDT

Thanks, Richard! I think the name came first... like a distillation of the thoughts and feelings that led to the poem. It was as if my shoulders were bearing up against an awesome weight, which also felt weightless at the same time... Something like that... back to poem, eh? :-)

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