My California
A tangled maze of gushing streams
My sunny California cries.
Her sky is veiled in morbid memes
That source her sad and raining eyes.
What doleful demon of despair
Has dared to infiltrate your skies?
What craven catalyst of care
Has dared to blur your sparkling eyes?
In answer to life’s brutal why’s
This slender shred of sense we gain;
“The brightest California skies
Will sometimes cry a flood of rain.”
Yet as the roses bud and bloom
Extracting nourishment from rain
Your magic melts the mist of doom
Creating beauty out of pain.
James Bontrager was born and raised near the rural town of Bonduel, Wisconsin. He currently lives in Ontario, California. He is part of one of several project management teams that works for a construction company. Very recently he published a book of his poetry through the Hustlin’ Backwards Entertainment organization.
James, what a beautiful poem about California with a depth of meaning ensconced beneath the surface. FYI: for several years while teaching for the University of Phoenix in several locations including Ontario, I was also the COO for a company involved in planning to build a 424-unit apartment complex in Victorville. I lived most of that time in Menifee but spent six months living in Victorville in 2006.
Thanks Roy! The world, it seems, isn’t always such a big place. The corporate office of the company I work for has been in Perris CA for years. We recently relocated to Murrieta. Both of these locations are within 10-15 min of Menifee.
James, the pairing of Queen Niobe with “California” is really striking—it brings together mythic, endless grief with something we associate with constant light and warmth. The line “The brightest California skies / Will sometimes cry a flood of rain” felt even deeper in that context, like even the most sunlit presence can carry a sorrow that feels ancient and unending.
Thanks Karen! The credit for the illustration goes to Evan.
Mr Bontrager,
What a fine finish to a magnetic set of lines and rhyme. This helps start my day with some of the best memories one could be granted in this fleeting life. Merced, Carmel, Union Square, Piedmont Avenue, the California Zephyr train, and my father’s affection for Pebble Beach Golf Course: he had to take us to see it. Thanks very much; keep writing.
The sadness is palpable, yet tinged with a ray of optimism, which you wisely save for the end. You express the dismay of seeing such a beautiful and promising place in such desperation as only a Californian really can.
Exquisite song of intense contrasts, James. From the radiance of “sunny California” to the “morbid memes” of cultural cares and despair, you suggest rather than show the source of tears for this golden state you tenderly claim as yours. And it’s a rare poem with every word perfectly placed. The principal rhyme words (“skies,” “cries,” “eyes,” “why’s”) are all meaningful to the theme, and you don’t hesitate to repeat them. In the splendidly subtle rhyme scheme (abab cbcb bdbd eded) there could be six of them, but four serve as enough. In-line alliteration is purposeful and artful; for example, the “m” of “My” descends to moan “morbid memes” but re-appears three stanzas later to resolve emotional tension with “your magic melts the mist of doom.” Imagistic word music moves from a “tangled maze of gushing streams” to arrive at the forthright definition of what’s happening: “creating beauty out of pain.” It happens often here in our California with so many creators determined to employ mind and soul matching the beauty of nature.
Hello Mrs. Coats, thank you for your response. I always appreciate feedback. I thought I would share a little “poet’s note” on the source of inspiration for this poem.
Poets Note:
I wrote this poem for my wife, who is a native of California, during a very difficult time of our life. I was driving to work one morning thinking of my wife’s natural “sunny” disposition and the “morbid memes” that had moved in and obscured it when the lines “The brightest California skies | Will sometimes cry a flood of rain” came to me.
California’s finished. In some ways it’s worse-off than Western Europe. But keep dreaming.
A lovely tribute.
Glad you enjoyed it Paul!
To me the poem evokes the alliterative tradition back into Middle English (in many lines). There is a Medieval feel, like California’s condition is that of a besieged castle. The flow is like a gentle stream, perfect iambic tetrameter throughout. To me this implies destiny’s happening. Yet, the final quatrain sees a dawn rising.