The Prompt: To write ‘In the Style Of’ Linda Hogan’s Innocence!
That (exquisite!) poem opens like this:
There is nothing more innocent
than…
I started similarly, and ran with it. My poem is far less lovely and much more annoyed than Hogan’s but, to be fair, hers was an awful lot to live up to for us mortals! Anyway, here goes.
BAMBOO
By Liz Garton Scanlon
After Linda Hogan’s Innocence
There is nothing more determined
than the subterranean shoots
of backyard bamboo, rhizomes advancing
like an electric grid, like an army,
disregarding fences and foundations.
There is no compromise, no working it out
or slowing it down, no way to say
what was determined now feels
aggressive to me, I feel
attacked
because as soon as I speak
or take to the soil with hoe or pick axe
another culm emerges, soft as grass
nearly the same green as a caterpillar
and exactly as tender.
I forget, just that quickly,
that culms become stalks, hollow and wooden.
In the face of that windswept tenderness,
I forget, forgive, relax –
a whole determined world beneath my feet.
Go read the others!!
Sara
Tanita
Tricia
Andi
And enjoy Poetry Friday at Radio, Rhythm and Rhyme!
I still like bamboo and wish I had some on the other side of my back fence. I’ve never had it, so… I still admire those determined, subterranean roots and lovely caterpillar green. I am learning from you though and not giving in. Ha ha! You have done such a lovely job on this challenge, bringing us right in to the grove.
“… another culm emerges,,,” my favorite line!
The detail and word choices and energy of this poem are utterly lovely. I understand and feel your anger, your frustration, your surrender. When you compare the new growth to a caterpillar, green and tender, I can sense you longing to squish that hungry thing before it does damage. (Even though you wouldn’t.) The tension here is beautifully done.
I love the details and thoughtfulness of your lines…there is both frustration and acceptance, which gives the poem such weight. Niely done.
I love bamboo forests – but we have a neighbor who relaxed and forgave and now just shrugs as they pop up on his lawn. They will take over – a whole world of determination beneath your feet – but they are also a rattling green windswept curtain of loveliness. A bit more annoyed than Hogan’s, yes, but who knows – she may have encountered that grub thingy again, and it might’ve been something she had to evict!
Those caterpillars turning into hollow, wooden stalks–lovely images!
Liz, this made me laugh and put a bit of fear of bamboo into me–that advancing army! Could be worse–could be kudzu? Your second stanza made me think of the beautiful baby pictures of humans who later grow into serial killers…
Your weighty argument connects to my own fight with bindweed, though it does not result at the end into anything one might wish, like those ‘hollow, wooden stalks’. I didn’t know that bamboo is something to fight, connecting to other things that are both a nuisance & a treasure. Life does have its contradictions!
My favorite is the last line. And how true, about bamboo! There certainly is nothing more determined.
Your poem is lovely, Liz, and your dilemma so familiar! The bamboo and I are at a stalemate: it stays away from the peonies and it can have the edge of the yard near the barn. Mine must be a different type of bamboo, though, for those determined, tender shoots are red, just like the peonies.
Determined, advancing, aggressive. You have chosen such powerful descriptors.
I never saw bamboo until I moved to VA and found it everywhere. What some folks thought would be beautiful for their gardens, has taken root and choked out so much.
I think you did a fine job with this challenge!
So many emotions in this poem – the frustration and determination to defeat the foe, turning unexpectedly to tenderness in the face of the new growth. Lovely!