Oct
Insomnia in Tucson
By D. Whistleblows
Standing on the stoop
of Becky’s adobe tri-plex
in the Sonoran winter heat,
I am half earth mother,
the grit lifting up my bare feet
and the birds playing
that people never existed.
The prickly pear’s pads are wasting
along the chain link fence
and the saguaros in the sunsets
are what landing on Mars must be like
and the mesquite trees really do smell
of smoky Texas barbecue.
The train tracks are so close
I could throw this empty IPA bottle
from the front door
and hit a super-C freight car
as it passes.
So, at one am,
when the screaming whistle
shakes the dried mud from the walls
and rips me from my dreams,
I know the dark man of the psyche
is the engineer.
And I know
I could walk outside
blanket in hand
and settle down comfortably
between the rails
in case I need to go back to sleep again
and not wake up.
###
Tiffany V
I integrate Transformative Language Arts into any work I do, and I work with people all over the world, but I can't tell you who they are, due to NDAs! I was once told, “you exude art.” So, I decided to spend the rest of my life helping other like-minded individuals get to do the same. Let’s do something magical together!
This poem in my opinion is vivid desert and other world symbolism, solitude, Earth and Martian nature reclaiming itself with brief interruptions. The imagery I thought of was that of surgical stitchings, scars upon the land of the ancients, a person half belonging to both nature and to the violation of the modern rails. I felt the sadness, the loneliness without any possilbility of human reclamation. I was left with the question of what is humankind in comparison to the expanse of millions of years? There is a sense to me of the purpose of life being forgotten without it mattering whether the author lives or dies.
An interesting look at places we do not think much about. The scenes are ethereal, the land is magic albeit described from poverty, although IPA is a few dollars more. The suicide-intent ending was okay ( well told). Rather she (?) had done the deed. Morbid-I, that’s how I take my B-B-Que.
Perhaps one of the overlooked jewels here is the expression, “dadme la muerte que me falta” which translates as “give me the death I need”. It comes from “Encargo” by Rosario Castellanos and is a poem I hadn’t read before, but recommend. My suspicion is that the author of “Insomnia in Tucson” asked for the quote from “Encargo” to be included. Regardless of source of offering, “Encargo” is an excellent reference and instantly one of my favorite poems. I would love one of my fluent Spanish speaking friends to tell me more about the nuances of the words.
I believe the author is male not female Michael.
I am shocked by my detective works’ findings and feel humbled and honored if my deductions prove correct as to the identity of this author. If I am wrong, I can state that I have made foolish guesses before, but I am fairly certain. I have sent my guess into Thorn. What fun this contest is!
This is a piece I can really connect with on so many levels. Very evocative.
Very well written. Having lived in Arizona – this one took me right to the scenery that lives and breathes there. Nice rhythm to the reading even with the ending being dark. Nice.
As any contest proceed I often return to those stories and poems I consider to be among the best offered. I believe this poem is worthy of finalist consideration.
In addition, I have purchased, “The Selected Poems of Rosario Castellanos”. I recommend this poetry book which is Spanish left side with an English translation on the right side in an opened position.
Now that the contest is over I can say that I am almost 100% sure I have met the author and had my hand kissed by him not once, but twice. One of my two thrills in this contest was reading this poem several times. I am humbled that such a great novelist would share such an incredible poem with us. Gracias desde mi corazón al suyo.
Layered quality, as the more times I read this piece the more it draws me in.
My congratulations to Afrose Ahmed, because I had this poem as my second favorite entry in the original round.