Traveling Incognito
The bus driver drops you
Where you need to go
Not the stop you ask for.
Sometimes you start out with
Sneakers and an umbrella
And end up in heels and new
Lipstick, a shrieking black shine
Matches raven feathers, refracts
A desert highway one state past.
Sometimes you end up at your
Mother’s and argue old stories
Then sigh, resigned, at thirteen
Years again — or you stand in line
To taste an important meal, stare
At the back of the dirty neck ahead,
Smell all that stale — yours, his.
Sometimes you’d rather take
The town car, but grooves
Grab wheels from cobbled stones,
Circle in tight arcs. And it’s the crooked
Left forks you’re after — the ones
That crackle like ten broken mirrors
Or follow the slow fingering
Of an Eulerian path in a shiny tattoo.
* * *
Well. This was hard. Writing to my own Read Write Poem prompt this week was incredibly challenging. I think I will try the telling tales idea again, though. I think there is lots to be gained by setting my mind loose from what “was” to what “might just be.”
I did find some truth for myself. Was it good poetry? That’s for revision to tell, another time. This was an experiment. Do lies, exaggerations, fibs or other manipulations shine in ways the truth can’t? Does the subconscious release when we play dress-up?
There’s more here to explore than can examined in the fruit of one prompt’s simple poem.
Thanks to everyone who joined in this experiment. I’m pleased as I can be to point out links to your work found here, even if you didn’t follow the prompt exactly, or at all.
* * *
What is an Eulerian path? Well, it’s this, or maybe one of these. (Hat tip to the Doc for that idea, which came from a Facebook conversation.)
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sometimes allowing the mind to settle frees it to work its magic. this is a great poem. hope all is well.
Thank you, Michelle!
I have to love that final stanza. The first stanza is good, too, stepping off into the Heraclitian river in between.
You don’t *have* to, but I’m pleased you do. I’ve long loved Heraclitian rivers.
Panta Rhei.
Lovely piece, Deb. I really liked the first bit, with the bus driver a metaphor for life…sometimes it doesn’t take you where you want to go…
Um. There is no metaphor here.
Hi Deb,
Yes, life takes us where it will. But that “slow fingering
Of an Eulerian path in a shiny tattoo” can bring wonderful discoveries!
Thanks, Derrick!
This was a great prompt; I’m sorry I wasn’t able to write to it this week!
I like best
Sometimes you’d rather take / The town car, but grooves // Grab wheels from cobbled stones
The alliteration of “take / the town car” and “grooves // grab wheels” really works for me.
I do think the subconscious opens up sometimes when we give ourselves permission. Once in grad school I got the assignment to read a whole issue of Best American Poetry, pick the worst poem in it, and write one which was worse. Amazing how liberating that assignment was.
Glad you liked the prompt, Rachel, and glad you join in the community!
I love that assignment. It’d be a fun (!?) one for RWP, if only we could spend that kind of time reading an anthology. (I should do it myself, no matter!)
It comes to life..
tale of two toes
Thanks, Guatami!
I like the way your busdriver takes you where you need to go, implying that, when you take the towncar, you end up where you shouldn’t be. Nice philosophy.
_____
Paul Oakley
Blogging his ReadWritePoem poems at
Inner Light, Radiant Life
I’m glad you caught that subtlety, Paul.
Hi Deb, The summary effect is rather wistful and alludes to how we travel in unknown arcs and then the tracing of the Eulerian path in a shiny tattoo has the nice final touch.
Thanks, Irene. I like that it was a bit “wistful” and I love that word.
Deb,
Great piece. I like the bus and driver as a trope and then how the the poem’s itinerary doesn’t obey this trope in an orderly fashion but breaks down into an accelerating and shifting cascade of scenes and foci, ending with the tattoo (and its scar allusions), and the idea of design, of the economical path as some kind of iconic map or symbol.
Wow. I like that it did that, too. It is great to have other people say what they see in a poem — opens it up in ways my conscious mind doesn’t always see.
What came to mind reading this was quantum physics, with all possible paths occurring simultaneously. I loved the opening, and the whole poem. And thanks for the lesson on Eulerian Paths… that was a new one for me.
Eulerian Paths were new to me, too, and got stuck in my brain … I’m excited (thrilled) that you saw the simultaneous paths!
We’ll leave art figure itself out as it will. Thank you for the path to follow.
Long time back, made a deal with God. You give me what you give to me, and I’ll accept what you give… gratefully. Silly? Kind of a one-sided deal? All unreasonable, but yet, it just felt right. And it is the gratitude that makes all the difference to me. Think that sort of relates.
Of course we care, fair more than foul, but it is the stance we take, how we hold up the sky, that seems to make the difference, how we feel being here. And pardon, I do go on. But there was a thread well started here. Seems a shame not to follow it.
And thank you for the prompt AND I still sit in terror at each new one (well, I exaggerate), but you know, not all so easy as at first they seem. So be it. And it’s the process, I really appreciate! As well, RWP, generous to a perfect fault.
Thanks for the poem Deb, and everything…
Thanks, Neil, for your generous comment, to the poem, & the commenters. (Hmmm? Not a real word to be one who leaves a comment!)
Oh, dear, for “terror” though. I hope as you hang out with the RWP crew that these prompts become less so.
Glad to have you joining in, and thanks for the visit!
I enjoy the”sighing resigned” at 13 – perhaps because my daughter and I started working on this prompt together. In my poem, the opening “two fisted fibs” were due to our giggling through some “big whopper lies” (the two fisted in my poem was inspired by Burger King’s old jingle “It takes two hands, to handle a Whopper, a two fisted burger from Burger King.”… I adored this prompt.
It started conversations with people, it elicited deep thought in me, it opened me up to new imagery – I could have written more poems from the free write (perhaps I will)
THANK YOU for your dedication to those of us who crave the prompting.
That is so great that you two did that. It’s wonderful. I did catch a flavor of the Whopper jingles in your poem, what a great departure point. (Silly aside, Savier has a good article in September about great burgers; The Whopper and I were born the same year! Oy!)
I am thrilled the prompt did so much! It is daunting to write for the community, honestly, so I am so happy to hear your thoughts.
I love this, Deb. I love the way you move through various paths up to that magnificent mention of the Eulerian paths — thank you! I love learning — this is an amazing exploration of memory, space and movement.
Wow, Nathan. You give the best comments. :-) Thank you so much.
I especially like “It’s the crooked left forks you’re after…”
Thanks, Donna! That “meant” the most to me, in this poem.
first thanks for the prompt..and a nice read
I’m glad you enjoyed the prompt, Wayne, and thanks for stopping by.
Parallel paths…innovative and lovely. I take the town car even though its tires inevitably flatten.
Haha, Tumbleweeds. A sense of humor is a good traveling companion.
I think your choice of “you” is great in this poem, because the “you” is so indefinite, so incognito — “you” could be the self “I” or directed at the reader “you” or referring generally to everyone “you.” The poem would work as poetry if it were entitled “I Travel Incognito” and began with “The bus driver drops me…” However, the poem’s theme is relayed more effectively with the “you.”
Thanks, Therese. I struggle with pronouns quite often — and am
gladgrateful you think the poem works best with the you.