(toc) #title= (Table of Content)
Four Poems by Karen Press
Glimpses of Women in Overalls
Live-in
tin gives you no time, only
everything too hot, the taste of your own burnt tongue immediately going cold, coagulation of fat on the palate.
They say china holds the warmth,
allowing incredible flavors to seep like perfume
through the soft, moist cells that glow with pleasure behind closed lips.
Off duty
like children, fearing any moment
the door bursting open:
why did you
where is my
who said you
one of the family.
Shadow,
moving quietly along the world's outline
sharpening the brilliance of its whirling blades — the keys, the voices, the dancing, dust-free
yet somehow a stranger.
Bridge on heavy legs,
the strong right arm supporting
untold numbers of children and their parents,
Maltese poodles, hot water cylinders, supermarkets, lavatories.
The other, jointed like a cracked wing,
reaching into the mist, as far as the eye can see.
Along its length pigeons building nest after nest,
the soft-throated rumbling of their incomprehensible songs barely audible.
R otten Fish
Law and order isn't easy.
Anyone can lay a charge.
The door of the police station is always open.
Sergeant Oliphant (unaware
he's descended from a long line of Ndlovus
with other, ongoing concerns)
has no reason to believe he should believe
a woman who smells and drips sand,
accusing unknown people of murdering
other unknown people.
He scratches his head.
‘Salt water cures lice,' Alida says.
Anyone is capable, Sergeant Ndlovu tells himself.
Shall I arrest every person on the beach
who has refused this woman something?
Murder is a cloudy thought.
Sergeant Oliphant would like very much
not to make a dangerous mistake.
He knows that law and order
is just a thin umbrella carried by those who pour the rain.
'Get out of here,' he says.
‘You smell like rotten fish.'
Probability
She was so angry about rotten fish,
she decided to believe her mother.
After all those years.
Zikwezaa zindlu. Izidumbu kwezaa zindlu.
A fairy tale, a croon, a lullaby.
Akuziva wena? Qho ebusuku ziyakhala, ziyakhala.
A misty cry of birds along the promenade.
Ndizibonile zonke. Ndibabukele besifa. Ndide ndiphuphe nongazo.
An old voice muttering in an empty room.
‘Tell me why it couldn't have happened —
I, standing in some stolen dress on a bed of dead shells, tell me why my mother didn't see what she saw.
What dirt was she cleaning away, day after day after day from the groin and armpits of this place?
All the years of her life,
all the sobbing ghosts she poured into my lap,
why shouldn't I offer them to you now?
Something of my mother's, to worry about.
‘Have you seen a whale rotting on the beach?
It stays and stays. Every bit of it.'
Sergeant Oliphant Catches Himself Dreaming at Night
Walking on the outside of walls
or on rooftops, listening
to the one who thinks of me,
the one who dares not.
From roof to roof casting my net,
sifting your warm dinner smoke
and the starlight hunting your cheeks
where the lashes tremble.
I, the bead in the net
that keeps danger at bay,
the hole in the night
the stars use to reach you.
Stretched across your dreams, taut as a bowstring
yearning towards its breaking point, waiting.
Whoever cries out will pierce me where I stand
on the lonely horizon, my small grey solitude
disappearing into the hinterland, my swaying step
dragging the ghosts of the cries that have speared me dream upon dream, so unprotected from my future.
Analyses
Analysis of Glimpses of Women in Overalls
This poem paints a vivid picture of the daily lives and struggles of women working in demanding, often unappreciated roles, possibly in domestic service or low-wage labor. The imagery of "tin gives you no time" and "burnt tongue" suggests a harsh, relentless environment. The mention of china holding warmth contrasts with the cold, hard realities these women face. The poem highlights their constant vigilance ("fearing any moment the door bursting open") and their feelings of being part of a family yet still remaining strangers, suggesting a sense of isolation despite their close proximity to others. The bridge metaphor at the end signifies their strength and support, carrying the weight of many responsibilities, yet their efforts often go unnoticed.
Analysis of Rotten Fish
This poem explores themes of justice and skepticism within the context of a police station. Sergeant Oliphant grapples with his duties, portrayed as challenging and often ambiguous. The poem reflects on the difficulty of distinguishing truth from falsehood in a world where everyone has the potential to deceive ("Anyone is capable"). The sergeant's internal conflict is evident as he weighs the credibility of a woman's accusation against the backdrop of his heritage and societal expectations. The concluding line, "You smell like rotten fish," underscores his frustration and the harsh reality of his position, where quick judgments and dismissal can often be the norm.
Analysis of Probability
This poem delves into the complexities of belief, memory, and the haunting presence of the past. The narrator reflects on a mother's warnings and stories, now seen through a lens of anger and realization. The use of multiple languages (Xhosa phrases) adds depth, conveying a sense of cultural and familial heritage. The poem’s imagery, such as the "misty cry of birds" and "a bed of dead shells," evokes a sense of desolation and unresolved pain. The repeated question about why the mother didn't see what she saw hints at denial or the suppression of traumatic memories. The whale rotting on the beach symbolizes enduring grief and the inescapable presence of the past.
Analysis of Sergeant Oliphant Catches Himself Dreaming at Night
This poem portrays a sense of vigilance and the burden of responsibility carried by Sergeant Oliphant, even in his dreams. He imagines himself walking on rooftops, casting a net to protect and observe those he cares about. The imagery of the net, dinner smoke, and starlight suggests a blend of domesticity and the ethereal, highlighting his connection to the community and his role as a protector. The poem conveys a sense of longing and tension, as he stands "taut as a bowstring" ready to respond to any cry for help. The final lines reflect his isolation and the emotional toll of his duties, as he contemplates the ghosts of past actions and the weight of his future responsibilities.
Leave a comment behind