Senescent Language

Cherry

By YaseminB

Tue, 07 Mar 2017
  • 1382 reads
6 comments
 

Senescent language

Of my forefathers

Lingers in my adolescent memory

I had vowed to forget my distant past

Only then could I become a true citizen

Of my Newfoundland.

 

A rationale lost on my children

Still there are forty words 

In my ancient tongue

To describe a non-symmetrical nose

This I remember.

Then the romance of my senescent language is still there.

No books were written in my ancient tongue.

Just the fading stories

Of war times

And beguiling peace.

Ocher soil. Lost souls.

Find home at last 

In Newfoundland.

 

When did your Diaspora begin! My son presses.

Was it during 1893 or 1914 or was it in medieval times?

No books are written in my senescent tongue.

My son is dissatisfied.

Mine is a story of mixing of bloodlines

My son's is even more so.

 

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Comments

Submitted by airyfairy on

The rhythm of this is very effective in evoking the oral tradition, and I found the last stanza particularly engaging, indicating as it does even more spreading of the diaspora.  A thoughtful and thought provoking poem.

Submitted by YaseminB on

Thank you AiryFairy.

Yasemin Balandi

Submitted by Ray Schaufeld on

I like the way that you do not name places, Yasemin,  it gives your poem a global feel. I also like 'senescent'.

Submitted by YaseminB on

Thank you Elsie.

Yasemin Balandi

Submitted by Jane Hyphen on

A really interesting piece which works well rhythmically too. It's amazing how language is not just about different words but different focus on things which are important to the culture of the language.

 

Submitted by YaseminB on

Thank you Jane

Yasemin Balandi