Spoken Free Verse: Bowl of Epiphany

photo credit: Dish of Apples by Paul Cézanne,1876–77, Digital Photo File Name: DT1939.tif
Online Publications Edited By Steven Paneccasio for TOAH 12-18-2015

 

As I recover from a concussion ( please visit my Go Fund Me to learn more ) I thought this week was a good time to explore the audio files I have accumulated on my phone over the year.  Often inspiration strikes when I am away from a pen and paper and I can’t type the words quick enough into a note.  Recording observations as RAW audio free verse poems are satisfying for me.  Background sounds are incorporated into the piece which, I think, adds to the impromptu performance.  Also, there is a desirable amount of light pressure to form a creative thought in one take.

The third poem I want to share with you is “Bowl of Epiphany”, recorded June 20, 2018, while walking the interurban.  An epiphany is an experience of a sudden and striking realization.  June was the month I realized it was time to stop producing radio programs and open myself up to something new.  At the time I didn’t know what that was.  In August, just two months after recording this poem the answer appeared.  Transitions are difficult. Building a new life is scary, but what the hell else are you goin’ to do? If you don’t move, you’re dead.

I recommend listening to the audio file while reading the poem.  I open Google links in Music Player for Google Drive.

https://drive.google.com/open?id=17rmbLxDv09VRKimooTiip8RAX4ci-R_4

 

Bowl of Epiphany

by Shannon P. Laws

I think in life it’s not just one big apple
I think it’s many apples throughout a lifetime
and the apple I’ve been munching on for eight years
I’ve reached its core

I could eat the core
put the seeds inside of me
maybe an apple tree will grow in my stomach
I don’t think it will

I’ve reached the core of it
and I’ll toss it
I’ll toss it out into a field where hopefully
time will dig it into the ground and it’ll grow a new tree there
and I’ll look for a new piece of fruit that I can eat
it doesn’t have to be an apple
maybe it will be pear,
a nectarine
a hybrid

but every fruit has its pit
has its seed
has its rind
and they all end

there’s a cycle
it’s the swirl of the universe
it’s the way our shells grow on the beach
at the bottom of the ocean

and I’ve reached the pit, I think
I believed I reached it
I’m ready for something new and I’m scared
—scared as hell

but everything moves and changes
rain falls
turns into river
turns into ocean
turns into mist
turns into the sky
it turns into a cloud
and more clouds
until it becomes rain again

everything changes
and evolves
why wouldn’t people

such an easy concept

I’m going to climb that mountain
an easy thing to say
doing it is different
I’m going to walk
across the desert, it will only take a few weeks
no its gonna take you forty years
you need to learn a lesson
you need to change
you need to grow
parts of you need to die

life is a bowl of cherries
it’s a bowl of apples
you eat them one by one

 

##

Poem: Handcraft

I hide my hand from my lover
Dripping in apple’s wine
The season is now morning
The harvest hangs on the vine
I shall pick the fruit
Forgotten by my lover
I shall reap the award
Of the farmers labor
Dance across the leaf
That shines with dew
Hop along the river
A trail we once knew
***

Poetry: Apple Tree Orphan

“And when he was tired, he would sleep in her shade. 
And the boy loved the tree… and the tree was happy.” 
The Giving Tree by Shel Shilverstein


Apple Tree Orphan
Among the green majestic towers
Beneath the canopy looking for sun
A young tree grows
Discarded by its owner
Thrown from the pot
Considered waste and unfruitful
The parents of the forest
shed and share
their bark bits
until the tiny tree’s roots grow
The rain brings nourishment
The animals’ fertilizer
The worms’ compost
Slowly the tree grows
Slowly the flower buds emerge
Slowly the fruit is exposed
Years pass
A hungry mind walks by
Thirsty for fruit
Ready for fruit
The tree once discarded
Has become nourishment for another
Thanks to the ways of the forest
Yet its forest family is confused
We take care of our own
Little tree, why must you
Give up your fruit to anyone?
The tree thinks on this
“I am a fruit tree standing among firs
Your fruit is pine cones, mine apples.
If you knew how tasty they are
You would not wonder why
The fruit lover desires apples not cones”
Little tree, you grow food
That you have no mouth for.
You will never bite into your own apple.
Why would you grow?
Why would you thirst for sun?
Why would you bring forth fruit,
Just to have another eat it?
“My food is in the soil.
My warmth is from the sun.
My joy comes from another’s satisfied smile
At my job well done.”

Yarn Bombing in Germany