.
Fallen Hummingbird
A formal-verse remake of a free-verse poem of the
same name written by my mother on October 16,
2000, in memory of my grandmother
Your hands, dear mother, on my mind have been—
Your calm and comfort-giving hands, so thin
And bruised, impossible to recognize,
From where they fed you intravenous lies.
So desperately onto those hands we held;
Around your bed our feet stood firm, rebelled;
We vowed to keep you here alive by force
And pour ourselves in turning back your course.
We kissed and petted you, tried not to cry;
Unable to believe, we stood, each eye
Ringed with hope and fear, which soon would fall
To numbness in the horror of it all.
We begged you: eat and fight to stay, don’t leave.
We pleaded with your doctors for reprieve,
But manners soon to boundless rage gave way
As you weakened, withered, shortly slipped away.
.
Original:
i keep thinking about your hands, mother
your calm and comforting hands,
so thin and unrecognizably bruised
from the intravenous lies they fed you
we held onto those hands desperately
feet planted defiantly around your bed
vowing to keep you here by force
to pour our very selves into you
we petted and kissed you; we tried not to cry
unable to believe, we stood there
eyes ringed with hope and fear, then horror
numb in the face of it
we begged you to eat, to fight, don’t leave
we pleaded with doctors, first all manners,
then bottomless rage as you
weakened and withered and slipped away
.
.
Cento of My Own Lines
Cento: a poem made up of lines from other poems
The West once shone atop a hill;
We chose ourselves above God’s will.
The union is in disarray—
Must Satan now be met halfway?
To you who call yourselves “pro-choice:”
Some kept their babies, now rejoice,
With eyes of faith the future seeing,
Adored their babies just for being.
We sit and stare, as still as stones,
When phones turn them to media clones,
A fiery, hellish tidal wave—
Its end could be an early grave.
.
Poet’s Note: All these lines came, word for word, from my other poems:
Line 1: “The Great Satan”
Line 2: “Two Empty Chairs”
Line 3: “The Tattered Flag”
Line 4: “Hymn 6-6-6”
Line 5: “What Is ‘Pro-Choice?’”
Line 6: “Elegy for Miran Sutherland”
Line 7: “For Sophie Pakaluk Barrows”
Line 8: “The Phony Mom”
Line 9: “Alone Together”
Line 10: “Today’s Families”
Line 11: “A Dying Country’s Future”
Line 12: “The Snuff Box”
.
.
Joshua C. Frank works in the field of statistics and lives in the American Heartland. His poetry has been published in Snakeskin, The Lyric, Sparks of Calliope, Westward Quarterly, Atop the Cliffs, Our Day’s Encounter, The Creativity Webzine, Verse Virtual, and The Asahi Haikuist Network, and his short fiction has been published in Nanoism and The Creativity Webzine.
I loved the reworking of the blank verse into a true classical poem with rhyme that beautifies the work far beyond the prose. I was struck by your inspired idea of composing a poem based on lines from previous poems you have written. I may attempt both of these things in the future.
Thank you Roy!
Actually, my mother’s poem is free verse; blank verse has meter (usually iambic pentameter) but no rhyme, like Paradise Lost, or many classical epics translated into English. Free verse has neither meter nor rhyme.
I’d love to see a cento of your lines!
I must say that I really enjoyed both versions of “Fallen Hummingbird” and there are very few free verse poems that pass the test for me. Thank you Joshua.
Wow, Norma, that’s quite an honor to my mother! Thank you from both of us.
Thought you did an excellent job on your mother’s poem, Joshua. The cento is well done too. I’ve written a couple in free verse based on other poets’ lines but I never felt they were truly mine. Using your own lines is a good idea.
Thank you J.D.!
Joshua, you did a fabulous job with the formal verse re-make of your mother’s poem, without sacrificing either the content and sentiment of the original.
I didn’t know what a cento was until now–this is a fascinating piece.
Thank you, Cheryl. My mother loves it too, but we both like her version better, mainly because formal verse would be out of character for her, and so anything in formal verse could never truly be in her voice, just as my English translations of French poetry could never truly be in the original poet’s voice because I’m writing in English.
I have seen bits of prose go by that I thought could be extracted from their setting to serve in a poetic context, perhaps with a slight modification; and I tried once to make a rhymed, metered paraphrase of a free verse original. But your treatment of your mother’s work required a great deal more care. You’ve done her homage.
The cento is quite impressive, too.
Thank you, Julian. I’ve used bits of prose myself and made them into poetry (“Shoulders of Giants” is based on a quote from Isaac Newton, for example).
My mother told me she was honored by my treatment of her poem as well.
Joshua,
Your poem remake, “Fallen Hummingbird,” is an honor to your mother and your grandmother. I am reminded of the deathbed of my mother. The phrase, “Fed you intravenous lies,” will chill through my mind for a long time.
Gigi
Thank you, Gigi. Line 4 is my favorite, too, for that reason. I was present at the events described (I’m included in the “we”), and it was there that I learned what a great evil the medical establishment is, twenty years before the recent pandemic taught that to every thinking person.
Both were quite good, in my opinion.
Thank you C.B.!
The lawyer in me was searching for the “used with the author’s permission” statement on your mother’s poem, but I don’t suppose your mother would sue you over this…
She shouldn’t. You do her sentiments justice, and I felt echoes of Dylan Thomas’s “Do Not Go Gently,” but from the perspective of the loved ones at the dying one’s side. The reworking shows how formal verse can just be as emotionally “genuine” or “sincere” as free verse (a term I loathe).
It was also nice to see a cento. It’s a rare form on these pages, and much harder to pull off than it seems. You’ve done well with yours.
Thank you, Adam. My mother said she was honored by my remaking her poem for purposes of publication here. Besides, she’s never been interested in getting published.
It’s interesting to read opinions here that the formal-verse remake is as emotionally “genuine” and “sincere,” given that, as I’ve written in my reply to Cheryl’s comment, my mother’s voice had to be lost in the translation. To give you an idea of it, she says she doesn’t like Robert Frost because she finds the emotion “neutered” in his work… whereas Frost is one of my influences. She thinks the difference is because I’m a man and she’s a woman, and given what I’ve read of male and female poets, she’s probably right.
Yes, the cento was quite hard to write, technically speaking. I had to find six pairs of my own rhyming lines (of the same length to allow flexibility of order) from twelve separate poems that I wanted to use, and then use a form that allowed them to flow into each other as if it were an original poem. It must have gone through at least a dozen drafts in at least six different forms!
Joshua, your re-working of your mother’s poem now offers your grandmother two similar tributes from her descendants. It is good to have both, necessarily like in emotion, but in the styles of two generations, each with a touch of the author’s personality. A part of you that shows through is obedience to the command to honor one’s mother, and this multiplies the honor given by your mother to your grandmother.
The important requirement for a cento is that it make sense, especially when the selection of sources for lines is limited, as is yours. You make remarkably good sense!
Thank you, Margaret. It’s nice to hear that obedience to the command to honor one’s mother shows through. See my reply to Adam’s comment for an analysis of the differences between the two versions. I’m also glad the cento makes sense!