The black-chinned hummer buzzes my flowered shirt,
bringing to mind the letter H, its history of an inferior life among
letters, and a Phoenician origin signifying fence.
An aspirate dependent upon others, or a line strung between posts,
even whispered, H does not contain itself.
Disconsolate or annoyed, the bird moves on.
Do names depend upon the power of symbols, or do they power the symbols?
In the 6th century A.D., Priscian disparaged H, saying it existed only to accompany.
Clouds shade the way.
The black-chin extends its grooved tongue at a rate of 15 licks per second.
Alone, the H’s voice is barely audible.
Through the trees, across the crushed rock driveway and beyond the barbed wire
and chain link, I hear deadfall snapping under hooves.
At rest, its heart beats an average of 480 beats per minute.
Modern Greek denies its existence.
Say khet, say honor and where. Say hinge, sigh and horse. Say depth.
Originally published in Prime Number Magazine, one of my favorite online literary journals, in 2013:
I love the way this composed.
Sidenote:
“Hurricanes hardly ever happen. “
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Thank you. And regarding your sidenote: Ha! Or is that hey?
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Incredible
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Thank you.
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All the layers in this poem, so beautifully interlaced! You triggered a memory of clouds piling up and turning from pearly white to dark purple before thunderstorms on hot summer San Antonio afternoons..
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Thank you. I enjoy layering elements, putting together oddball entities to make a whole.
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I love all three of your 3 odes to letters, but this one is so rich with images and information, I think it’s my favorite. H has a special place in my heart; too many favorite words and creatures to number (and also, my middle name, Hesper, starts with it).
I also really enjoyed reading the Q&A at the end of the piece in Prime Number. It’s easy for me to perceive (and get hung up on) the history and meaning of Chinese ideograms but like everyone else, I take the Latin alphabet for granted.
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H is particularly interesting, in that its sound in English words varies so much, or disappears entirely. I’m pleased you like the three poems in Prime Number. They’re some of my personal favorites and are set, tho no one would know, on my rural property, and feature favorites of mine – hummingbirds, Cantinflas the burro, screech owls – that appear elsewhere in my writing. 🙂
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I love that burro just because he’s named Cantinflas. 🙂
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Alas, Cantinflas, or Donkey Hotei, as we called him, has moved on. I almost miss his 6:00 a.m. weekend braying. Almost.
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Hooooo … there is many the “haaaa …” in this!
Love this! 🙂
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Ha! Thanks, Sherrie.
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“Donkey Hotei” !! And I thought Christine’s puns and wordplay were bad!
But not to forget that this space is for meaningful comments on your work — a rerun for me, and it’s better than ever…like a fine Japanese sake! *hehe*
Obi-Ron
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I believe you’ve suffered through many of my bad puns…
Hmm. Like a “fine Japanese sake.” You realize that I know how you feel about sake… 🙂
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Oh! I fear I didn’t make myself clear. All I meant was :
1. Your poems get better with age.
2. They are indescribably impossible to describe just as it is impossible to describe Japanese sake in terms of deliciousness.
Does that clear it up?! *g*
Obi-Ron
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You are a silver-tongued devil, Obi-Ron!
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Guilty to the “devil” but innocent to the “silver tongue.” Ever since I learned what happened to Julius Caesar during his speech, I have avoided oratory with a purple passion…and oratory of other colors, too! *g*
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Now that is one meaty poem! Hail and honour.
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Thank you, Simon!
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H is the ego collapsing as ‘I’ takes a fall.
My font has let me down.
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And then you arrive at J!
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oh K 🙂
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Ahhhh
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Aha!
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I keep coming back to this – it’s beautiful, fascinating. Complex construction and concept but so (apparently) simple to the eye. Exquisite, and so difficult to achieve that I’m envious and delighted at the same time.
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Thank you, Gina. I’m so pleased you find it so. If you haven’t done so, you might click on the Prime Number Magazine link, where two others in this series also appeared.
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Will do that, for sure. I hadn’t seen Prime Number before – I’m sure I’ll enjoy your other work and many other things to find there. Thank you!
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Harrowing. Henceforth, I will hang onto my h’s and help them along! (Loved the poem, btw.)
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Happy to hear it!
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There is so much happening in this. The tone is perfect.
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Thanks very much.
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As an H myself, I got a lot from that. x
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Thanks, Helen. I’m glad you found something in it.
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A highly harmonious helping! Well done as always Robert, fantastic poem. I will definitely check out Prime Number. Daniel
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Huzzah, D. O’Hara. And tHAnk you!
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I love this one, Bob. Good work, man. A letter as elusive as the hummingbird. And sometimes as silent. Hour, honest, Hannah, herb, heir, ghost.
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Thanks, Randy. One of my favorite letters.
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Wow Robert…Amazing piece. I love it. : )
Suzanne
P.S. Thanks for all of your attention to my blog. I really appreciate it!
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Thank you, Suzanne. I enjoy visiting your blog. Much to admire there.
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I love this! The ideas flit in and out just like a hummingbird in a garden full of too many riches.
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Thank you.
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Pingback: Dark Rain Ahead, Hummingbird | Josie's Kaleidoscope
Birds. I will try to say something for you. I had a nickname once – Sparrow.
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I hesitate to think what my bird nickname would be. Probably Turkey, or Blue-Footed Boobie, or…
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I’ve already staked out “Dodo” for myself, so you’ll have to look elsewhere.
I am deeply enamored of this poem, Robert. Its language ebbs and flows, flutters and buzzes, in a way that resonates both with my inner ear and the subject matter. It also resonates with my sense of being the metaphorical “AC unit” that I am—peripheral, in the shadows, yet if not necessary then at least an enhancement of the main subject or action. Additionally but significantly, its story of H is particularly meaningful to me since my spasmodic dysphonia works overtime when I try to say words and phrases that begin with soft aspirates like vowels, including the pretenders like H and W. Percussive sounds are easier to make, but frequently less beautiful and definitely not practical without the vowels!
Another aspect of this piece that has my affections is its tidy but lyrical way of drawing together several topics that might seem tenuously-related to others, as though you have a fine camera or lens of some sort that you’re gradually adjusting in front of my mind’s eye to show me the relationships. I love that sort of thing.
Thanks for this!!
Kathryn
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In these pieces I hope to, in some small way, emulate the way my mind darts around from subject to subject. It’s liberating to allow myself that freedom. And thank you for your comments, Kathryn. I will relinquish “Dodo” to you.
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Thank you for visiting. It feels like a king came by to the poor beggar’s home.
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Ha! You are entirely too kind.
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Enjoyed this so much. Last time a tropical storm came throu or hummingbirds disappeared for about two weeks. I was so glad to see them back.
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I’ve spent much time watching hummingbirds! Time well spent.
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Reblogged this on The Midnight Writer.
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Thanks for reblogging!
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Amazing
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Thanks very much.
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I love it! Portia SLB
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Thank you!
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Reblogged this on goodminute and commented:
Weekend Reading from O At The Edges, where the Letter H is described as “An aspirate dependent upon others, or a line strung between posts.”
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Thank you for reblogging. Much appreciated!
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Thanks for clicking by.
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Likewise!
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It really is all about the ‘cliks” isn’t it? I certainly concur.
Well… actually not: it is all about the ‘reads’ but… clicks are so good. Too.
Cheers,
Lance
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Clicks are nice, but reads are better.
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Reblogged this on Crazy Pasta Child.
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Thanks for reblogging.
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So beautiful.
I’m quite taken with the letter H myself, but then it is the beginning of who I am so I am biased. Perhaps the line strung between two posts is representative of my own need to be joined with others in this dance of life. Standing alone I am silent. With others, I’m gregarious, alive, & full of myself. But even in my life, I’ve tried changing my signature only to find there’s truly only one way to write it, for the H is solid, determined to be written just as it is with no real flash or flare. Just H. The line between two posts, keeping them from toppling into each other or falling apart.
Thank you for your interest in my little blog. It’s helped me discover your poetry, which is beautiful! Have a richly blessed day!
Heidi
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Thank you, Heidi. Yes, the H is indeed solid! I appreciate your kind words.
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“I’m gregarious, alive, & full of myself.”
Yep; I can see that and… great comment! You ‘comment’ well.
Cheers,
Lance
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Beautiful!
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Thanks very much!
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Very much enjoyed. I never quite though about the nature of a letter like this.
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Every letter has a story!
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I guess I need to retract my earlier statement–I have studied the Hebrew Aleph Beit and there, definitely, there is a story. You remind me of that.
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Apart from the intrinsic pleasure of reading this, it took me straight back to the 11-year-old me reading “The 22 Letters” by Clive King https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Clive_King and loving the mystery and history of the emerging alphabet…
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Thank you! I’m not familiar with Clive King, but will have the pleasure of becoming so!
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Reblogged this on Random Thoughts and commented:
A little gem…
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Thanks for reblogging!
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Breathtaking. Gratitude and respect.
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Thank you, David. Much appreciated.
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Very different from the start. For me that is important to grab the reader and take them with you. Gold star for you!
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Thanks very much. I’ll proudly hang my gold star on the refrigerator door!
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Honor. I said it, I meant it.
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Another solid, if silent, H! Thank you.
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“a Phoenician origin signifying fence.”
https://www.goodreads.com/author/quotes/23205.John_Graves
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I’m so glad you stopped by me – this way I have found you, and your breathtaking poem!
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Thank you! I’m so pleased to have found your blog, too.
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I am so pleased I found your blog. Amazing and beautiful words.
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I, too, am pleased. Thank you!
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Hoo knhew?
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Eggs-hacktly!
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