Experience

I wanted to be surprised

To such a request, the world is obliging.

In just the past week, a rotund porcupine,
who seemed equally startled by me.

The man who swallowed a tiny microphone
to record the sounds of his body,
not considering beforehand how he might remove it.

A cabbage and mustard sandwich on marbled bread.

How easily the large spiders were caught with a clear plastic cup
surprised even them.

I don’t know why I was surprised every time love started or ended.
Or each time anew fossil, Earth-like planet, or war.
Or that one kept being there when the doorknob had clearly—

What should have not been so surprising:
my error after error, recognised when appearing on the faces of others.

What did not surprise enough:
my daily expectation that anything would continue,
and the that so much did continue, when so much did not.

small rivulets still flowing downhill when it wasn’t raining.
A sister’s birthday.

Also, the stubborn, courteous persistence.
That even today please means please,
good morning is still understood as good morning,

and that when I wake up,
the window’s distant mountain remains a mountain,
the borrowed city around me is still a city, and standing.

Its alleys and markets, offices of dentists,
drug store, liquor store, Chevron.
Its library that charges— a happy surprise—no fine for overdue books:
Borges, Baldwin, Szymborska, Morrison, Cavafy.

Jane Hirschfield (1953 -

If we are looking for surprises … being prepared is important … so come on surprise I am waiting. This is the opening ask – a want for a surprise – I wanted to be surprised. But it is wanted not want which means that JH gives a lot of ambiguity in what this might imply. We don’t know if she has had a pleasant surprise, for example something she thought would never happen like peace in the Middle East, or something very personal and quite unpleasant in nature – like a bill through the Post long forgotten.

But let’s face it we never quite know what is going to happen in life. Whether we look for surprise or not life is full of variety in the unknown happenings of daily life whether trivial or monumental in their arrival.

The poem is a list of some surprises that have manifested. Nature always surprises when we least expect as in the first example. I am always surprised in summer when a snake crosses the path. I know it is likely to happen, but infrequently – but when it does it gives a shock.

Next in the list warns us not to do stupid things on the spur of the moment without due thought on the repercussions. Here is another clear event. The spying by Southampton Football Club was such a needless stupid thing to do. I guess they didn’t realise the implications on being found out and the cost of not playing in the Championship Play-Off final.

And it is not surprising how easy it is to do things – if you know the best way (thankyou Google) … like how best to catch a spider.

And as for love well no surprise … there are always associated surprises … and I do like to surprise when giving presents.

But there is no surprise in that we are prone to mistakes … we give surprises away in that way … especially to the listen when we inadvertently use the wrong word … and don’t realise at the time … and we have to be so careful now with electronic help when the wrong word is put in for us …

And it is surprising that so much continues in life with no change … marketeers use this to advantage … saying the same old quality product since early inception … it will be packaged differently, and you are sure to pay more – no surprises there! …

… of course habit keeps us anchored to the same things each day … like always walking round the lake clockwise … and surprise, surprise I have a friend who has been doing this for many years … the other day I met up with her again for lunch … she wanted to tell me that last week she walked anti-clockwise, and told me it was so different (incidentally Jane Hirstfield has another list type poem Habit – personifying Habit which controls our life)

… and some common words have the same intent as they’re always had … and we understand the person immediately – like please

… and interesting that the city viewed from the window is a borrowed city … it may be reclaimed … but it is still there with all the usual elements including a library that doesn’t charge for overdue books … but plenty of cities in the middle east that change dramatically

… but in relation to words and books they have a permanency not like the electronic equivalent which may be lost at the touch of a finger

… a friend recommended a book to me and surprise, surprise it was such a marvel I must mention it … quite often what another finds endearing is not exactly to your taste … but this time it was much appreciated – the book – ‘ All Before Me’ by Esther Rutter … the story of a personal recovery while working as an assistant at Dove Cottage in the Lake District, interwoven with detailed research in connection with the person lives of William and Dorothy Wordsworth and that important relationship with Coleridge.

… in relation to books I must mention ‘Surprised by Joy’ by C. S. Lewis … joy quite often comes as a surprise … so may you find joy from some of the surprises that happen to you!

… another thought that comes to mind … how do we deal with all the surprises that happens in our daily life in relation to providence

I will close by wanting a surprise … and it will be a surprise if it happens … I’m looking for 3 comments on this Post … follow the list-poem-creation-technique as shown by JH … list three things that come to mind in association with your reading of the above … just three very short sentences will suffice.

Jane Hirshfield is a highly respected poet, translator, essayist, and editor.

Here is her Facebook page.

Jane Hirshfield on Wikipedia

Made to Measure

Impossible to wield
The acreage of the fabric that unfolded,
Slung from his shoulders like a crumpled field:
The distance from one Christmas to the next
When he was only seven
Was aching there; a foreign city flexed
Among the ripples; a face, the star-shocked heaven
About his flailing arms were shrugged and moulded.

Too heavy to outrun,
Too slow to measure what it underwent,
Though gradually the passage of the sun,
Unmanageable in its train of light,
Seemed almost to respond
As he yanked the yards of stuff in like a kite
And gathered the brocade that trailed beyond
His arms' reach to the scale of measurement,

However strange the weave
That writhed about the working of his hands:
The footage too atrocious to believe,
Printed with corpses; Greece; the falls of salmon;
Her upturned silken wrist
He would have torn out history to examine;
His father's final blessing, which he missed.
However far he comes or where he stands,

At last, and limb by limb,
Contour by contour, that unfolded cape
Settles ever more fittingly on him.
His forehead is the line of the sky's vault,
His shoulders trace the ground,
His palms the ways he wandered by default,
And in his gestures those he knew are found.
What shape the day discovers is his shape.

Stephen Edgar (1951 -

I became interested in the poetry of Stephen Edgar, a prominent Australian poet, after we discussed some of his poems at a recent University of the Third Age meeting. This poem meant little to me on a first reading. It is the sort of poem that is easy to dismiss unless you have time and are willing to apply some thought to the metaphoric meaning. It was only when Stephen Edgar explained how this poem came into being on his Website that I started to value the poem. This is his explanation from his Website –

… the key concept is “experience”, learning about the world, and how children learn to cope with it.

The “brilliant” new image from which the poem took off was the notion of experience as a cape slung from the shoulders. To the young child this cape is far too big and unwieldy: the world is too big to deal with. As the child grows the cape becomes more manageable, even though, as the third stanza details, some of the experience on the cape is cruel and wounding. Eventually, as he ages, he grows into the cape, as it were, his experience and himself are one and the same, a perfect fit. You ultimately make your own world, even as you are made by it.

I found it interesting to equate the life path of experience to that of acquiring a cape. The material continually added to the cape as it is woven with each colourful event to eventual completion. In other words the cape is a metaphoric representation of the life of a person. It is your unique world; it is what you have woven from life. But I question whether it is a perfect fit. Is it comfortable to wear?

The first stanza details the early experiences of childhood. And there is such an acreage nowadays with the flood of information that is readily available for comprehension. Childhood questioning can now be addressed so readily by use of the internet. And influence and undue influence is another matter. So made to measure may not at all be the best fit.

But – what shape the day discovers is his shape (or her shape of course). And I guess the world makes us as much as we make the world. But are we all changing the world for the better. All I can say is may your clothing fit you to the core so that you are satisfied with the product that is you!

Perhaps a cloak would be a better choice. Both are sleeveless overgarments that drape over the shoulders, but the cloak offers more substantial coverage and function, whereas the cape is a more decorative or ceremonial accessory.

Well, you must leave it behind anyway. Or perhaps take it with you metaphorically depending on your spiritual outlook.

Stephen Edgar on Wikipedia

my word in your ear

words for dissemination … poetry commentary and selected poems … Richard Scutter

I wanted to be surprised – Jane Hirschfield

Made to Measure – Stephen Edgar – Comments