In the Flesh

I saw a prayer on Sunday.

  It was sitting on the sidewalk

 hand beseeching me

the scent of madness in its eyes,

   the calculation of a

survivalist mathematician

      on its mouth.

presence strips desire

  to its basest element:

 light-skinned people

     have money to spare.

he was angry that I did not;

   lips turned to snarl,

the 5th such, that day

and I wished to know his poem,

 but more, I wanted

  there to be a way

to share mine, too, with him

not a walking bank card

 that already, 3 families

   take what little I can spare:

often, there is not enough

   for me, that shadows cut deep

all ways, in all directions.

I saw a prayer, and in my honesty

  I could not be its answer

     that day- and what hurts most

is the not knowing

  where and how to direct

a wellspring of righteous anger-

   by rights, his-

the prayer turned to poetry

  the poetry was lost in dust

  and the day's refuse

and maybe, indifference won

     another prize.

 

Reviews

[VennelaMargame]

I reminded of an article I read once about the state of things in Kenya, where a lot of the older generation was annoyed at the generosity and deep pockets of American and European tourists because the younger generation was making more money at begging than at working, and it was undermining productivity and parental authority.

There's a very nice narrative here, and nice characterization in the way that the beggar is reduced to a simple vocalization, not even a whole person or part of a person, but a beseeching.

The phrasing is a bit prosaic, but I think it works overall.

Best wishes.

[Marie Anzalone]

prayer= action made flesh. Thank you, Vennela, for the insightful and thoght-inducing review. The Kenya ancedote is very apropos here. You can see the sincerity in th eyes. You can see it in the actions; the way some reduce us to caricatures. Versus the ones who humbly ask form everyone. It makes me uneasy, the level of need is horrifying at times. Truly horrifying.

[SingPoetically]

I enjoyed the reality in the poem nicely written

[Cory Barrett]

I seams I have a lot of reading to do concerning your marvelous work. I may have to take it in bits. I spent some time in Colombia in 2001 and 2002, so much of what you write about wrings my heart.

[Marie Anzalone]

Thank you, Cory, for stopping by. Indeed, every day wrings my heart, and then lines between humility and arrogance; fortune and entitlement, blur into the horizon line. Columbia would be a good analogy indeed; they are hurting right now as much as we are here. I appreciate the time and review. Saludos.

[lee von cleef]

indifference , Nature she can, will ,does, wait. Me I remember a cartoon, " I could cry when I think of the years I wasted accumulating money, only to learn my cheerful disposition is genetic"

[Marie Anzalone]

is it really indifference when one has simeply been overwhelmed, and can neither take nor give any more? Nature has her moments, we have ours. Maybe God is just the intersection point between desire and reality.

[bob, small b. aka invs]

there's so much in this poem to think about and comment on. first, i wonder if God sees our prayers this way too. as desperate begging to someone who's already given all. i also wonder about the guilt in not being able to give. as someone else has already said, you can't save everyone yet the desire is there. and then there's the inability to see the other's viewpoint. the resentment. it's a complicated exchange of emotions. i'm very glad you turned this prayer into poetry and shared it with us. i see no indifference here.

[Marie Anzalone]

thank you, bob, for your gentle, compassionate, and thughtful review of this tough piece. Indeed, I wonder about the hardness of the human heart overly muchly. Every time I go to eat in a restaurant, I feel the resentment of those who cannot afford even the $3 meals I eat there. One has to find their line of comfort, somewhere, right?

[bob, small b. aka invs]

it is complicated, isn't it? what should be considered a blessing (being able to enjoy a 3 dollar meal) becomes a point of guilt. yes. perhaps we think overly muchly.

[Tree]

We can't save everybody. I remember the exact day I realized this, just a kid but I didn't like that feeling, being powerless... When you wrote: "and I wished to know his poem,/ but more, I wanted /there to be a way/ to share mine, too, ..." I thought, see. that's what I like to do. When I have the time, money and or inclination I want them to share their story with me, give me a little of your experience, and I''ll buy you lunch, or a beer. But give me something. give me a lesson, give to me "your" poem... And I promise, I'll give your story the respect that it deserves, and a decent ending, however, tragic it may be....

As always poetess. You find a way to poke, and prod, firmly, but with compassion.

[Marie Anzalone]

thank you, Diego, for "getting" the heart of what this is about. I know that the homeless and indigent feel invisible as human beings... but their treatment of me makes me feel the same way. Like a walking dollar sign. I wish I could go to a public park, and have people just say "good morning" to me like they do to everyone else. Invite me to coffee, instead of coming in while I am trying to write and enjoying a very rare cup of tea out, and begging for me to buy something. See me as a human being that is frankly tired of the assumption that because i look foreign, I have boundless cash to give away. It is a very uncomfrtable feeling, and I am tryign to reconcile compassion with the flat out disgust and resentment I feel sometimes. Not an easy road to walk, my friend. I wonder how many would listen if I were tot alk about how much I already am asked to give?

[Corset]

So many people feel the world owes them something, and then there are those like yourself who would give the shirt off their back and feel guilty if it was the wrong size, as if you were responsible for clothing the world. I'm one of those too, feel guilty all day if i don't have it to share and have to drive by the collection pail, i'm not that bad though, I won't stop by the bank first or go out of my way to make sure there is change, but I feel bad if I have to drive by, and my ex would get so mad at me for contributing to the "scam" artist. sometimes I think we need to grow thicker skins.

[Marie Anzalone]

thicker skins? I think the challenge of our time is actually to relearn compassion. and most of the people I see begging here are disfigured or mentally ill and in genuine need. but everyone is in genuine need, myself included. I find myslef resenting them for seeing me essentially as a walking dollar sign. and I am not sure what to do about it. it makes me profoundly uncomfortable.

[Corset]

no, I meant thicker when we have nothing ourselves to give and that guilt follows us home.

[The Rock And Roll Cowbo..]

Wow your poem cuts very deep… Love makes for the best poetry, when it is good and especially when it goes bad.

[Marie Anzalone]

thanks for the review, Cowboy, it is appreciated. I would gently point out though, that this is NOT a love poem in any way. curious what made you think that it was?

[Alessander]

fav line "presence strips desire"

I like how you set up the scene. It's very bare, but full. I can also relate since recently I was walking through downtown L.A. and I swear I got hit up for change about 7 different times. Kept refraining, "Sorry, I gave it away already" and some would say thank you, while others would indeed, snarl.

I also found that pity without action is indulgence. I still feel bad, but once I'm out of change (literally or metaphorically), what is there to give?

Bread fills their stomach, not art.

[Marie Anzalone]

one of my best friends always used to say, "you can't get blood from a stone." you get to a point where you really do have nothing left to give. and it is a terrible and haunting feeling. I think we all need to learn our own limits and boundaries. I give in so many ways, including devoting my life to making others' lives better. I honestly am trying to figure out why I get angry being hit up for change every single day and I think I just answered it. I would like to feel treated as a human being, too... same as they would, I think.