deepundergroundpoetry.com
chopsticks on the living and dying of things
I
I saw an advert for teardrop shaped caskets
where coroners break one’s rigor mortis
to fold them back into foetal position
plant them with a seed
and let nutrients
from the decaying carbon
feed a tree that will go on to help us breathe
I thought that in itself was poetry
how we’re born of seeds
and to seeds, roots, limbs, leaves
we may be fed
I love -- that there’s no choosing
whether to enrich this nest of ours
in whose familiarity we will never again
drink or be merry
once we've consumed
much as our mortal forms allowed
II
In the brain of a crow
there has been found a suggestion
of consciousness
awareness as visceral as ours
and humans can only speculate
as to what purpose
an enormous extra lobe could serve
in the brain of an orca
taking into account
that molecules remember interactions
that reality is self perpetuating
that particles only behave while being directly observed
their ability to appear in different places
simultaneously
is still largely unexplained
we are suspended
in singular facts
that add up to only half-truths
innumerable questions amplified
III
Religion promises
that when we pass from this mortality
all will be understood
or maybe fungi have it down
telling us in dreams how it’s all connected
through mycelium
and doesn’t matter which part we play
in the body of the earth
life will manifest itself in fibonacci spirals
and growing/feeding/decaying cycles
as simply, as brightly
as hideously
as facial expressions
maybe it begins in the soil
Published 3rd May 2022
Author's Note
Originally published 30th Nov 2020
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 10
reading list entries 6
comments 10
reads 577
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
Anonymous
3rd May 2022 7:04am
I'm glad you reposted this..on several levels
3rd May 2022 7:20am
Anonymous
3rd May 2022 8:29am
Yes. You spoke of Orcas and Crows...and how knowledge, wizdom and perception flows through eyes whose convex is different from ours. Thus the context of life. I can really vibe to this joint. I'll be back for another inhaling.
Blessings
Blessings
3rd May 2022 9:29am
unlike the above, I hadn't read this before. I'm most grateful that you put it here. Had to come back to it a few times to enjoy it thoroughly, would possibly do that a few more times.
I love poetry like this, not just pretty words but a wealth of information, introspection and observation all packaged as a piece of quiet time.
It takes one through so many emotions, while laced perfectly in imagery then ends in almost quiet moment that could be construed as an epiphany or just a mundane truth, (i mean that in the best possible way.) those truths we know, but are best pointed out to us.
In part I
I found myself imagining how various people would grow from a seed in an afterlife, would they be tree, a flower, or a bush? It was quite a lovely moment of seeing the people in our lives represented naturally as their flora reincarnation ;) Thanks for that!
In Part II
"we are suspended
in singular facts
that add up to only half-truths
innumerable questions amplified "
sits with me, its something I'll take to ponder on for some time, a true "food for thought"
Thank you for sharing this, poetry such as this is so underestimated and I believe the way the artform will naturally progress to, the mix of the studied, philosophical and phycological in a single package. I 'spose therein lies a metaphor ;)
Well done on this, it is definitely gold on a page!
Blue Skies @ You
Al
I love poetry like this, not just pretty words but a wealth of information, introspection and observation all packaged as a piece of quiet time.
It takes one through so many emotions, while laced perfectly in imagery then ends in almost quiet moment that could be construed as an epiphany or just a mundane truth, (i mean that in the best possible way.) those truths we know, but are best pointed out to us.
In part I
I found myself imagining how various people would grow from a seed in an afterlife, would they be tree, a flower, or a bush? It was quite a lovely moment of seeing the people in our lives represented naturally as their flora reincarnation ;) Thanks for that!
In Part II
"we are suspended
in singular facts
that add up to only half-truths
innumerable questions amplified "
sits with me, its something I'll take to ponder on for some time, a true "food for thought"
Thank you for sharing this, poetry such as this is so underestimated and I believe the way the artform will naturally progress to, the mix of the studied, philosophical and phycological in a single package. I 'spose therein lies a metaphor ;)
Well done on this, it is definitely gold on a page!
Blue Skies @ You
Al
4th May 2022 7:47am
I'm so glad this is where the poem took you, Al.. these are topics that if brought up in conversation, I will rant about and glean any feedback or new, or more in-depth information others have on the subjects. They are skimming the tips of hundreds of articles, scientific papers, thoughts on philosophy and life and death, so... it was really a gathering of headlines (or leaves) for something much, much deeper for me (roots).
Thanks for leaving your detailed feedback, it's always appreciated :)
-wave-
Thanks for leaving your detailed feedback, it's always appreciated :)
-wave-
3rd May 2022 12:14pm
I believe I might have commented then but I’m gonna do it with fresh eyes.
Immediately I was drawn to the title. Thought about chopsticks for a bit. Whether it’s eating with chopsticks, or playing chopsticks on the piano, you need two simultaneous fingers working at the same time. And this kinda carries through the theme of the poem of life never being present without death. Of wisdom not working without wonder. Great start. And I hadn’t even read the poem yet.
Part one had me thinking of this great irony then when we die, they bury us in caskets made of natural products. Almost like it’s nature’s last laugh as we toddle off back to earth.
Part two is where the mystery (wonder) part steps in for me. I love how it moves from one (fact) to two (wonder) once again echoing that simultaneous chopsticks sentiment. Can we also take a second for crows. One of the smartest and most notorious members of the bird kingdom. Their myth preceded them and I fully understand why.
Three… well. Let me tell you I am the nerd with her little mushroom book walking round the woods looking for those suckers constantly. Totally obsessed with them.
Can I also say I watched “fantastic funghi” on Netflix a few months ago and I was sat there like a stoner on day release, my mind absolutely blown when they were talking about mycelium and how it would be the one thing to repopulate the earth in the event of global catastrophe. It can communicate. It regenerates. It nourishes. It is literally sponsored by Jesus, that shit is amazing. So that finisher of “maybe it begins in the soil” is poignant. Almost cycles back to the beginning of your poem. We live. We die. We become earth. We are reborn.
There’s a lot of magic in this poem. Not the rabbits and hats kind, but everyday miracle magic. The trees. The shrooms. The death. The earth. The rebirth. It made my little heathen heart happy.
Thank you for sharing this one, it was a gem. And soooo much to pick through.
-M
Immediately I was drawn to the title. Thought about chopsticks for a bit. Whether it’s eating with chopsticks, or playing chopsticks on the piano, you need two simultaneous fingers working at the same time. And this kinda carries through the theme of the poem of life never being present without death. Of wisdom not working without wonder. Great start. And I hadn’t even read the poem yet.
Part one had me thinking of this great irony then when we die, they bury us in caskets made of natural products. Almost like it’s nature’s last laugh as we toddle off back to earth.
Part two is where the mystery (wonder) part steps in for me. I love how it moves from one (fact) to two (wonder) once again echoing that simultaneous chopsticks sentiment. Can we also take a second for crows. One of the smartest and most notorious members of the bird kingdom. Their myth preceded them and I fully understand why.
Three… well. Let me tell you I am the nerd with her little mushroom book walking round the woods looking for those suckers constantly. Totally obsessed with them.
Can I also say I watched “fantastic funghi” on Netflix a few months ago and I was sat there like a stoner on day release, my mind absolutely blown when they were talking about mycelium and how it would be the one thing to repopulate the earth in the event of global catastrophe. It can communicate. It regenerates. It nourishes. It is literally sponsored by Jesus, that shit is amazing. So that finisher of “maybe it begins in the soil” is poignant. Almost cycles back to the beginning of your poem. We live. We die. We become earth. We are reborn.
There’s a lot of magic in this poem. Not the rabbits and hats kind, but everyday miracle magic. The trees. The shrooms. The death. The earth. The rebirth. It made my little heathen heart happy.
Thank you for sharing this one, it was a gem. And soooo much to pick through.
-M
4th May 2022 7:59am
Ah, I was grateful for your generosity the first time, but for a second time, even more so.
And you are bang on with what I was thinking with the title: I'd originally written it as the piano chopsticks because to me it was so light and scattered over the top which was what the song always felt like to me.. beginner and light. But there's a section in my cutlery drawer for physical chopsticks.. we use them regularly in this house.. the duality of everything, is an awesome observation.
Corvids are my faves, ravens especially, but only cos they're the clunky looking ones compared to crows
I love the mystery of mushrooms, how they're so diverse, and I haven't watched the Netflix special but I e read about the mushroom biology features you mentioned, and found all those facts entirely fascinating. They ruled the earth before us, and will likely do so again.
I'm sure this poem was inspired by a comp you were running at one point, so.. :)
Thanks again for your feedback, Missy. Always appreciated
And you are bang on with what I was thinking with the title: I'd originally written it as the piano chopsticks because to me it was so light and scattered over the top which was what the song always felt like to me.. beginner and light. But there's a section in my cutlery drawer for physical chopsticks.. we use them regularly in this house.. the duality of everything, is an awesome observation.
Corvids are my faves, ravens especially, but only cos they're the clunky looking ones compared to crows
I love the mystery of mushrooms, how they're so diverse, and I haven't watched the Netflix special but I e read about the mushroom biology features you mentioned, and found all those facts entirely fascinating. They ruled the earth before us, and will likely do so again.
I'm sure this poem was inspired by a comp you were running at one point, so.. :)
Thanks again for your feedback, Missy. Always appreciated
24th Sep 2022 8:40pm
You're overdue for new posts, so I'm rummaging through your older stuff. And I just found a sea shell.
I live on the (Mostly boring) west coast of Florida. But there is a beach not too far away, called Caladesi Island, where you take a ferry boat over. It's never crowded, and never touristy. It's also rated one of the best beaches in the USA.
I like to go there super early, and walk the shallows of the ocean, for seashells that are unique, that stand out from the norm. I will walk a mile or more, just looking around and in the water. For the scarce handful that are worth me trekking back with.
I'm very picky.
And someone walks up to me, and hands me an awesome shell, and says "looking for this?". And they just made my day perfect.
Your poem is that. It's why we search.
Excellent write. This is not just a poem. It's knowledge.
I live on the (Mostly boring) west coast of Florida. But there is a beach not too far away, called Caladesi Island, where you take a ferry boat over. It's never crowded, and never touristy. It's also rated one of the best beaches in the USA.
I like to go there super early, and walk the shallows of the ocean, for seashells that are unique, that stand out from the norm. I will walk a mile or more, just looking around and in the water. For the scarce handful that are worth me trekking back with.
I'm very picky.
And someone walks up to me, and hands me an awesome shell, and says "looking for this?". And they just made my day perfect.
Your poem is that. It's why we search.
Excellent write. This is not just a poem. It's knowledge.
26th Sep 2022 2:26pm
hey Styx, turns out you live quite near my mom 😄
thank you for taking the time to have a little rifle through the oldies, just please, please don't go too far back.... I'll never live it down.
seashells are some of the most honest little joys for me since I laid my baby feet on the sand, so thank you. hope you find some more around this area eventually :)
thank you for taking the time to have a little rifle through the oldies, just please, please don't go too far back.... I'll never live it down.
seashells are some of the most honest little joys for me since I laid my baby feet on the sand, so thank you. hope you find some more around this area eventually :)
12th Jan 2024 3:43pm
Your comment on another poet was so right on that I just had to check out your own work which turns out to be very special It is always such a gift to find someone who can take the bare facts of the Emperor's New Clothes paradigm and transmute the mix into something which is transcendent.
Kick-ass from the title all the way through.
I would go through line-by-line and genuflect repeatedly but I am an old man, counting the days until my 80th (277 as of today) and there is an urgency to just keep moving on through your work. I am such a pig when it comes to things like this. But ty for starting my day off in such a lovely fashion.
Lordy but your poetry is effing delicious!
Oink
Kick-ass from the title all the way through.
I would go through line-by-line and genuflect repeatedly but I am an old man, counting the days until my 80th (277 as of today) and there is an urgency to just keep moving on through your work. I am such a pig when it comes to things like this. But ty for starting my day off in such a lovely fashion.
Lordy but your poetry is effing delicious!
Oink
