Collage by Margaret Bednar (click to enlarge)
Listen to me read my poem (at bottom of this post)
On Display
Jam jars, cherry, grape, and rhubarb
lined our cellar shelves. I'd descend,
explore Mother's bounty:
tomatoes, beans, corn, pickles, carrots...
Imagined all replaced
with that which sustained me:
heroes and heroines, the famous and infamous,
dinosaurs, birds, mysterious sea creatures.
Ball jars filled with pickled faces, fins, and feathers,
fields, clouds, and the deep blue sea...
Remember wandering
Chicago's Museum of Science & Industry,
stumbling upon ghostly "babies in a bottle";
purity and mortality forever coexisting.
Unsettled replaced with awe,
faith in God rebirthed; a tale no more.
_ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ .
Mother often hummed in her garden,
planting, weeding, growing,
eventually uprooting, preserving.
Smiled when she heard the ping of the seal,
mason jars ready for display,
her nurturing heart satisfied.
by Margaret Bednar, January 4, 2023
IS ANYONE INTERESTED IN A WEEKLY PROMPT CHALLENGE USING MY COLLAGES for poetry and/or short story? Let me know in comments - I can start them next Thursday the 12th.
playing along with Shay's "Word Garden Word List - Keith Reid". I used 9 words: descended (descend), explore, replaced, wandered (wandering), ghostly, purity, mortal (mortality), humming (hummed), tale.
Two links to the Chicago Museum of Science & Industry "babies at gestational stages" exhibit. These are real, so if you have issues with this topic do not watch. I have always understood that these were stillborn at each stage of development and donated to science back in the 1930's. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3v95DuyN7IU and https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xh5INPPZS2E
I invite you to listen to me read my poem:
18 comments:
Fascinating, the collage and the poem. Descending into the cellar is such a great metaphor for descending into the imagination or the subconscious, both discovering and preserving worlds, and I love this:
"stumbling upon ghostly "babies in a bottle";
purity and mortality forever coexisting.
Unsettled replaced with awe,
faith in God nourished; a tale no more"
--- as if to say, there's room for the spirit here, because reality/imagination/existence is steeped in it. Wonderful poetry, Margaret.
Science and spiritualty, the familiar and the unfamiliar, meet here in the words of your poem, Margaret. Very nicely done.
Purity and mortality... that is so potent. If only we could bottle the best of us and preserve them forever...very interesting flow of thoughts in this poem!
I love this from beginning to end. There is a joy in the voice. Joy in discovery, in sharing the experience and the warmth (gotten from the mother). I bet that warmth is felt in every jar.
I shall keep an eye on your possible Thursday prompt, and try to participate every now and again. Probably combined with P&SU.
Very beautiful Margaret, both your words and the collage.
Beautiful Ik like the idea to preserve all the fascinating things in life in jars and bottles and store them in your cellar to enjoy
I loved everything about this one! My Nana, my Mum and my Aunty all gardened and preserved – AND I liked expeditions to our local museum, with exhibits both fascinating and somewhat gruesome – so you took me back to good childhood memories of my own.
PS Alas, I would have trouble participating in your prompt. The end of the week is usually so busy for me. There are other lovely prompts around which I no longer manage to keep up with. However, I like Magaly's idea of perhaps combining it with posts for P&SU , so you never know....
(Edited)Thought-provoking write! The collage is so cool! Love the title, "On Display" as everything we witness is truly on display and sparks our imagination. 👏👏
well that was fun to read, great sound! love that collage too, well done. those videos were interesting, creepy, but interesting. great post!
Your mom and mine were pretty much alike. You were very thorough and a bit magic spreading also.
We also had a potato bin at the far end of the storm cellar for potatoes from our potato patch. Towards her end she became a hoarder. When she died Mrs. Jim and I had two pickup loads of too old canned fruit to dispose of.
I would try to post on your collage site. Generally I write a Friday meme alphabet blog picture post on my other blog and two here, Friday and Sunday. Occasionally I write for dVerse also. I keep busy most of my time with bill's, doctors, house and car tending, kids and grandkids, etc.
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Assembling jars filled with history and mystery is a lively way in to the breadth of soul, from a mother's pickle jars to the glass wombs in the Museum of Science and Industry (I so remember the fascinated horror of taking them in as a child on a school expedition!). An act of preserving for the future. Yours collage is a fascinating treat. Great stuff.
I love your description of all of storehouse of great food on the shelves. I remember the ball and Mason jars lined up on the cellar shelves. Sweet pickles soaking in brine in the five-gallon crock with a plate on top. Sugar-cured ham hanging on a hook waiting to be sliced! Such good memories!
Reading this filled me with nostalgia and the sense of home. Love the collage as well. Happy New Year Margaret.
This takes me back to the days of canning with my mother, the dark, damp cellar where we placed them to feed us through the winter. Love your collage. Beautiful writing.
Well done, Margaret. I can see this happening in front of me.
Your collages are wonderful!
The collage is so beautiful, and the words make the jars so alive. :)
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