Ghost, with a Line from Porchia
In my dreams you manifest in a younger form.
If I were to give you life, what could I give you?
Your hands never touched these walls, yet you inhabit them.
As my language inters you, I am absorbed in yours.
Some gifts are simply not proffered, others are released.
My fingers retrace your name in both sun and shade.
The rain taps out regrets, regrets on the metal roof.
Dim spirit, faint soul. Root-land. Shoal. Mother.
Each visit signals the darkness waiting.
Your battle with language, with silence, invoked.
I stretch the word and weave this dirge for you.
* * *
Note: “If I were to give you life, what could I give you?” is from Antonio Porchia’s Voices, translated by W.S. Merwin.
“Ghost, with a Line from Porchia” first appeared in Underfoot in October 2017.
Bravo
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Thank you.
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Hauntingly beautiful.
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Thank you, Cate!
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What a great line and an elegant question.
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Thanks, Leslie. Porchia wrote/published only one book in his lifetime, but what a book it was!
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Everywhere we go we are followed by these ghosts. I clearly see the living walls in your words, and it gives me a shiver of recognition. (K)
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There is no escape – we are the walls.
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Drew me right in … an understood “haunting”. Things never spoken (for whatever reason) take on new significance, proportions when one (potential speaker or potential listener) is gone. “The rain taps out regrets, regrets on the metal roof.” Indeed. And beneath those regrets is the nagging “What if?” … wondering if silence were perhaps best …
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The big “what if” combined with “why”!
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Appropriately haunting and lyrical.
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Thanks, Charles!
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Again your words stir the depths of my soul, during this week of high emotions for me.
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I hope they’ve stirred you in a good way, Ivor. I would not want to cause any distress.
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All good memories Robert
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Whew! Relieved…
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I’ve no more pain, only lots of cherished memories.
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A good place to be.
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So Beautiful! Made me reminece of my Elizabeth❤️❤️
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Thank you very much. I’m glad it resonated for you.
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It did💖 thank you for sharing
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This makes me think about communication, and how language can be an imperfect medium. Our regret for words left unspoken is like death. But words also have the potential of being life-giving gifts. The last line is my favorite because it reminds me that expressive, linguistic art like songs or poetry can help to heal our grief.
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Thank you, Sophia. Words often feel inadequate, but we do what we can.
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“The rain taps out regrets, regrets on the metal roof.” Perfect metaphor, Robert.
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Thank you, Sarah. The rain can be annoying in its candidness.
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Or sometimes soothing, if we can turn the regrets into memories.
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Very true!
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