Your poem has a haunting flavor; the impending loss of a whole country - what do citizens do? Stay or go? I found reading it unearthed a sadness I don't typically notice - at this level, at a country level. We're so cynical (for good reason) and that so easily hides sadness.
Thank you Mary, your composition, penetrated. And yes, very resonant right now. Best.
I agree, Kathleen... as a country, we've perfected cynicism as a defense mechanism, because how could we live our lives if we truly felt the grief we should feel, at losing so much?
I wrote it at a time when I really didn't know if I should stay or go, yet in three short/excruciating years, I've realized... where would I go? Perhaps there are remote places on this earth where the reach of globalism is not as prevalent, but I don't know of any. (Costa Rica, maybe?) And remote places have their own drawbacks.
I listened to a recent interview with Catherine Austin Fitts and she was saying wherever we end up, we're in the fight. Yeah, some places might be better than others, but no one will escape it. I agree with that. 😘
From the front yard it didn't take me but a moment ta declare "an' Bobs yer Uncle!" (meanin' this too is 'bout Uncle Sam--our "mutual" uncle)--so that leaves us ALL as nieces, nephews, cousins, "relations".... Engaged yet remote....a mite removed, kin--but not so immediate. We give ourselfs permission ta leave... Unlike them Sons & Daughters of Liberty who feel so close, who stay. Most are now old an' frail but yet loyal to their patriarch, sure. They meet in the Veterans Halls & Free Library Spaces monthly, sharin' mem'ries, ol' photos, letters--an' tales of medical procedures, pacemakers, neuralgias. They know of the past, of the House, far more than us nieces & nephews, even those've us that visited often back in the day. In fact, they knew whin that bannister wuz wrought, they mebbe even knew when the porch wuz added, when the floor wuz solid, when they gotta real 'lectric warsher. They 'member the storms an' vermin an' the repairs--ALWAYS back then repairs were made. This is so even if they cain't 'member whut they bought at the Piggly Wiggley 'er the Krogers 2 days ago. But tho' old, they are needed....still. Hard fer us "relatives" ta linger--painful ta wartch the "weevils" eat, slowly.... BUT we don't wanna say bye neither... that seems wrong too, no? Mebbe the way ta help Ol' Sam is ta keep in touch with the sons & daughters... still present in the past? liked this muchly tho' it leaves me dusty ;-)
A beautiful addition, Daisy. Truly. I so appreciate your taking the metaphor to another level -- the personal, the intimate, the human. I gotta say, your comment leaves ME dusty ;-)
This isn't really about your uncle, Mary, is it? I stared at the photo image with the Flag draped over the weathered wooden chair on the spongy porch. I do agree, this poem is more relevant now. The flag made me think it had to do with this country, old Uncle Sam, that's disintegrating right before our eyes, on its last legs, being eaten from its inside out, gasping its final breaths. Still, so many think it looks just fine. After all, it's still Super Bowl Sunday isn't it? But they can't smell it rotting at the core. I can understand you wanting to leave your old uncle before he collapses. It's hard and sad to watch someone take his last breath. Anyway, as you say, he's just your uncle. But aren't we all in this together, even as distant relatives? We've come this far, why not hang in there and play some part in helping to resurrect and transition this old hulk of a home into that better world we all envision. Or not. It is up to us after all.
It definitely is a metaphor for our dear old Uncle Sam. And I noticed that the open-endedness of it fits with where I was in 2021 -- considering moving to Mexico -- but not as much with where I am now. I considered re-writing the ending, but decided that it IS up to all of us to make that decision for ourselves, and that decision can change over time.
A lovely analogy, Mary. I was telling my daughters last night your mother-in-law story, and how you were the most gracious DiL imaginable. They're hoping that the universe is on your side and the timing of everything falls into place so you have the life you deserve--no matter who thinks otherwise ;-) They also watched my video on their uncle and liked it. I was glad for that.
Tereza, you and your daughters are incredibly kind! I'm glad, too, that your video met with their approval. (Not that you needed it, but it IS nice, especially when family is involved.)
Your poem has a haunting flavor; the impending loss of a whole country - what do citizens do? Stay or go? I found reading it unearthed a sadness I don't typically notice - at this level, at a country level. We're so cynical (for good reason) and that so easily hides sadness.
Thank you Mary, your composition, penetrated. And yes, very resonant right now. Best.
I agree, Kathleen... as a country, we've perfected cynicism as a defense mechanism, because how could we live our lives if we truly felt the grief we should feel, at losing so much?
I wrote it at a time when I really didn't know if I should stay or go, yet in three short/excruciating years, I've realized... where would I go? Perhaps there are remote places on this earth where the reach of globalism is not as prevalent, but I don't know of any. (Costa Rica, maybe?) And remote places have their own drawbacks.
Anyway, thank you for the comment. xox
I listened to a recent interview with Catherine Austin Fitts and she was saying wherever we end up, we're in the fight. Yeah, some places might be better than others, but no one will escape it. I agree with that. 😘
From the front yard it didn't take me but a moment ta declare "an' Bobs yer Uncle!" (meanin' this too is 'bout Uncle Sam--our "mutual" uncle)--so that leaves us ALL as nieces, nephews, cousins, "relations".... Engaged yet remote....a mite removed, kin--but not so immediate. We give ourselfs permission ta leave... Unlike them Sons & Daughters of Liberty who feel so close, who stay. Most are now old an' frail but yet loyal to their patriarch, sure. They meet in the Veterans Halls & Free Library Spaces monthly, sharin' mem'ries, ol' photos, letters--an' tales of medical procedures, pacemakers, neuralgias. They know of the past, of the House, far more than us nieces & nephews, even those've us that visited often back in the day. In fact, they knew whin that bannister wuz wrought, they mebbe even knew when the porch wuz added, when the floor wuz solid, when they gotta real 'lectric warsher. They 'member the storms an' vermin an' the repairs--ALWAYS back then repairs were made. This is so even if they cain't 'member whut they bought at the Piggly Wiggley 'er the Krogers 2 days ago. But tho' old, they are needed....still. Hard fer us "relatives" ta linger--painful ta wartch the "weevils" eat, slowly.... BUT we don't wanna say bye neither... that seems wrong too, no? Mebbe the way ta help Ol' Sam is ta keep in touch with the sons & daughters... still present in the past? liked this muchly tho' it leaves me dusty ;-)
A beautiful addition, Daisy. Truly. I so appreciate your taking the metaphor to another level -- the personal, the intimate, the human. I gotta say, your comment leaves ME dusty ;-)
This isn't really about your uncle, Mary, is it? I stared at the photo image with the Flag draped over the weathered wooden chair on the spongy porch. I do agree, this poem is more relevant now. The flag made me think it had to do with this country, old Uncle Sam, that's disintegrating right before our eyes, on its last legs, being eaten from its inside out, gasping its final breaths. Still, so many think it looks just fine. After all, it's still Super Bowl Sunday isn't it? But they can't smell it rotting at the core. I can understand you wanting to leave your old uncle before he collapses. It's hard and sad to watch someone take his last breath. Anyway, as you say, he's just your uncle. But aren't we all in this together, even as distant relatives? We've come this far, why not hang in there and play some part in helping to resurrect and transition this old hulk of a home into that better world we all envision. Or not. It is up to us after all.
It definitely is a metaphor for our dear old Uncle Sam. And I noticed that the open-endedness of it fits with where I was in 2021 -- considering moving to Mexico -- but not as much with where I am now. I considered re-writing the ending, but decided that it IS up to all of us to make that decision for ourselves, and that decision can change over time.
Thanks for the comment, Rocket! xox
A lovely analogy, Mary. I was telling my daughters last night your mother-in-law story, and how you were the most gracious DiL imaginable. They're hoping that the universe is on your side and the timing of everything falls into place so you have the life you deserve--no matter who thinks otherwise ;-) They also watched my video on their uncle and liked it. I was glad for that.
Tereza, you and your daughters are incredibly kind! I'm glad, too, that your video met with their approval. (Not that you needed it, but it IS nice, especially when family is involved.)
That was beautiful, Mary. I usually get irritated when authors present what they wrote years ago. I make an exception when art is reproduced.
Thank you, Charles. Glad to know what irritates! :-)
🥰