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Open Poetry #49
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Cari
Member
Posts 411
Englnand

0 posted 2016-01-26 06:05 AM



The Trader lets his eyes wander upwards
to his gift high above the alter,
A tax deducted insurance for the after life
Noonday sun nudges aside an errant cloud
Bursting rays of dappled gems of colour
Light the chancel and the font
~
The congregation, friends and enemies
Wives and men with other men’s wives,
together raise their heads, the women
holding tight to their expensive millinery
From the plate glass window, Christ
smiles down bearing a child in his arms
A white child
~
On the dry African scrub plains
The Trader has bestowed another gift
Not accepted yet, but waiting
Days of rain brings life to the wilderness
Flowers bloom in joyous fragmented beauty
The small girl gathers them to her print dress
A flash of peacock blue beckons to her
~
The priest calls for the baby
Pressing closer, the Trader
looks down at his grandson
as the girl reaches for the perfect bloom
Holy water anoints the infant child
Blood baptises the African veldt.

© Copyright 2016 Cari - All Rights Reserved
ice
Member Elite
since 2003-05-17
Posts 3404
Pennsylvania
1 posted 2016-01-26 03:13 PM


A poem of black bruises on the concience of white proslavers..

The trader waits the auctioneers call:
Who will give the most, does God approve?
A question never asked by those old Christian posers.

"From the plate glass window, Christ
smiles down bearing a child in his arms
A white child"

The contrasts in this poem are brilliant, as they reflect in my thoughts the full weight of one races justification of treatment of another.

The sad part is, is that although this does not exist in the form of physical slavery ( the black/white issue) Today.
We as a modern nation has been able to subliminally enslave certain ethnic, and racial groups by economic, and other means. Instead of an auctioneers money, we use poorly funded education systems to pay for bondage.

"The priest calls for the baby"
The white baby--
"Holy water anoints the infant child"
(But is is black flesh that bleeds on the veldt..)
"Blood baptises the African veldt."

Hope I came close to your meaning..my own interpretaion gave me chills.

"Poetry is an echo, asking a shadow to dance."
Carl Sandburg

Cari
Member
Posts 411
Englnand
2 posted 2016-01-26 04:45 PM


Ice, I have no quibble at all with your understanding of the poem though the overall point is concerned with the Traders two gifts. The first it obvious as to the second, the answer lies in what the Trader actually trades in.
ice
Member Elite
since 2003-05-17
Posts 3404
Pennsylvania
3 posted 2016-01-27 05:03 AM


Ok, I read it again.

This time I see the "trader" as god.

Might be wrong again, but it seems that the being in this poem (the trader) is trading sin redemption for a piece of real estate in heaven.

"The priest calls for the baby
Pressing closer, the Trader
looks down at his grandson"

The priest here seems to think he is a direct descendent of Christ? And plys his trade like he was taught by his grandfather? Or perhaps now that the child is annoited, it becomes a relative of the trader?

At least closer to the "father" than most people?

"as the girl reaches for the perfect bloom"

I see the "Bloom" here as now, after baptisim, she is "perfect" in the eyes of god?

Hope you are not one of those poets that gets annoyed when their poetry is not clear to a reader...

I feel mystery is important (sometimes) in poetry, it makes me think deeply.
In my mind it is as important as form, and your poem excells in both.

Sorry if my query is bothersome....:-(

"Poetry is an echo, asking a shadow to dance."
Carl Sandburg

Cari
Member
Posts 411
Englnand
4 posted 2016-01-27 07:06 AM


No Ice, I’m never disappointed with the understanding of my work.
It’s not for me to tell the readers of my poems what to take from them, I’m perfectly happy with whatever meaning the poem has for the reader. I am grateful for them of taking their time to read and comment.

I was just replying to your question i.e. if my meaning coincided with yours.

If you get an impression of the whole total sense of falseness I’ve tried to illustrate in this piece, then you’re in tune with my intentions.

In the first stanza the Trader is saying to the congregation ‘Look what I have given you at great expense to myself’ when in fact he’s given very little.
If you make a gift of money to a church or charity, you don’t pay tax on the sum so the price of the window cost the trader hardly anything and in return he thought the gift reserved his place in heaven.

The second stanza adds a touch of infidelity in the congregation and the implied racialism of the white child in the saviour’s arms.  

The third sets up the final horrific content of the second gift. What the Trader actually deals in is not mentioned and deliberately so for the twist in the final stanza.
In fact he is an Arms Trader and one of the items he sells is the anti- personal mine, just one of thousands that lie buried from left over conflicts in Africa.
The mine in this poem is what we called a ‘Jumping Jack’. When tripped a small canister filled with steel balls jumps up about three feet and explodes.
I leave it to you to imagine what happens to the victim.

Cari.

ice
Member Elite
since 2003-05-17
Posts 3404
Pennsylvania
5 posted 2016-01-27 10:45 AM


Thank you
The poem is much bigger than it appears..

Of course, the ball bearings explode with the mine, and causes a baptisim of blood on the veldt..A modern day primal screem, after evil purpose is achieved.

Thanks for telling this tale of phony Christians--it needed to be told, and now that I understand more fully, Rate it an A+

I had already rated it an A

Keep them coming, I am enjoying the ride in your car..

ice aka ford

"Poetry is an echo, asking a shadow to dance."
Carl Sandburg

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