Thread: Back When Watermelons Were Cheap

A steady stream
of seventies super hits
forever echo
in the corridors
of my mind.

Welcome relics
of simpler times
when two pairs
of calloused hands
soothed every sorrow
and the future stretched
across a horizon
hued the blush
of daybreak.

Sweltering summer nights
spent upon a cot
in the living room
caressed by
the wheezing breath
of an ancient window fan.

The old black and white
demanded a short sprint
followed by a twist of the wrist
to switch channels,
and whole watermelons
cost but a dollar.
A life as yet unspoiled
by luxury or tragedy.

Way back,
when conversation
was first priority
and pinochle ruled Saturday nights,
its enslaved subjects
attending Sunday Mass
with full sets of baggage
beneath eyes of ruby.

Before the future
became the present -
its horizon stained
the scarlet of harlots' rouge -
and pushing buttons
replaced playful banter.

Before adored hands
slowed then stilled
and began to reek of rot,
poisoning my world,
its luster lost eternally.

I'd readily relinquish
ten of my remaining years
for one more night
upon that narrow cot,
belly bursting with watermelon,
as those hands shuffled cards
until church bells beckoned.

vary nice! not sure I understand S7 but here is my take, when I read this I think of an old man remembering his childhood in the seventies, and the "before adored hands" I think would be his lover that died? not sure "slowed and stilled, and began to reek of rot," is what makes me think of death. "poisoning my world, its luster lost eternally" is this him thinking his world ended when is lover died?(if I was correct about the lover part).
Again just my take vary well made, loved it all - keep up the good work !

This is such a yearning for what has gone and that is what I yearn for too, when everything seemed so simple and almost innocent and carefree for a time, but here we are (sigh) I don't want to call it nostalgic because that seems a little sepia toned.

I actually thought it had a slight humour to it to begin with when you started with the stanza:

A steady stream
of seventies super hits
forever echo
in the corridors
of my mind.

and all i could picture was platformed shoes, below flapping flares, clacking down some sterile corridor on the set of Carry On Matron or something (sorry I used to watch those bawdy Carry On films and Hammer Horror films when I was a young child) the rest of the poem at first reading seems perfect so i'm unsure about the first stanza.


The second stanza says so much in so little words and I think it's excellent!

Thanks so much for sharing this Lisa.

Patricia

Lisa, a beautiful nostalgic piece. As I was reading I was remembering my grandmother baking pies and how life was so much simpler then.

the wheezing breath
of an ancient window fan

I love this! But I'm partial because when writing the part of my memoir (when living with my grandmother) I described the fan in my room and it's sounds.

belly bursting with watermelon,
as those hands shuffled cards
until church bells beckoned

Such a glorious ending. As beautiful as can be...Laurie

you know, i was at the grocery store this morning, and i thought i got everything, then i read this, now i have to drive back and get watermelon.

this has great sounds and flow, every line is a prefectly timed breath, calm and conversational

Sweltering summer nights
spent upon a cot
in the living room
caressed by
the wheezing breath
of an ancient window fan.

ah, that feels good. i'd say more, but i have to go get a watermelon. really enjoyed this

Very poignant -I enjoyed reading this.We had one of those fans....

Ahhh, I have so many of the same memmories, Lisa, though I know I'm older than you. This one is absolutely wonderful and bittersweet. Thank you for the trip back to my childhood.

Hey, Lisa! I've been so behind on my reviewing! Gah.

What I like about your poetry is that it's so effortless. Poignant, as was said above. You make a connection with your readers, and that's a really powerful thing. People feel what you write. Although I will say that it didn't make me want to go out and buy a watermelon. Ha, ha. But that's probably only because I'm not a fan of watermelon.

I love all the alliteration peppered throughout this piece, I have to say. It rolls right off my tongue. Absolutely delicious.

I think the thing I didn't like about this was the line length. I thought they were actually too short. I think this poem would flow better if you put some of the lines together instead of cutting them off. But really, this was a very relatable, strong piece. Thanks for posting.

This by far my favorite of your, C.D. and that's saying something. As I just said about another poem, it's so easy to cross the line into sentimentality -- in this case especially when it's about memories. But there's nothing sappy about this and of course you ground it at the end with the feeling of longing. In me, it also evokes similar associations and feeling, although the specific memories don't quite match up. (The mass things sure does though.) It also reads very smoothly and is of just the length overall. I like the shorter line lengths, but that's just a preference of mine. Really nice work! So nice to visit poetry -- I need to come by more often.

This is wonderful, Lisa. You paint a grand picture that, I assume is a personal one, yet leave it open enough to connect with every reader. That's not always easy. Usually personal sentiment muddies it to the point where it loses all ability to connect to anyone but the poet, but you walked the tightrope and made it to the other side. Excellent work.

J

Dear Chief, A bone to pick, kind sir, those who were children in the seventies are not old, at least by my standards. Now you've made me feel like a geezer. lol. I am very intrigued by your interpretation, you are quite right about S7 and death, and its ruination of my narrator. However, the narrator is me, in S2 it says "two pairs of calloused hands", and those hands belonged to my parents. I hope that helps to clear things up a bit, and apologize for the confusion. I'm honored you enjoyed, hon.


Dear Patricia, I happen to love sepia tones, lol. I've always thought I would have been happier had I been born thirty years earlier. Life was richer when all this technology didn't exist, people had time for each other and for personal interaction. Now, they text each other while sitting side by side. Needless to say, my kids call me an old fashioned fart, but what do they know, all they do is push buttons. lol. I'm going to have to take a closer look at S1, no humor was intended, it is just an honest statement. Can't get those tunes out of my head. I'm glad S2 worked for you, and even gladder that I could drag you back with me for a few moments. Thank you, love.


Dear Law, I'm so happy the ending worked for you. I remember reading a piece about your Gram and your using the fan. It's funny the things that stand out after our years accumulate. I hated that noisy fan, but it was better than nothing. Until I was 13, we lived in an eight family that had no 220 wiring, so no one could have an AC. Then we moved across the street to a two family and the first thing Ma did was throw out all our fans and buy the biggest baddest AC she could find, and it was November, lol. Can't say I cried when the garbage truck crushed those particular relics. Thanks for indulging in the nostalgia with me.


Dear Wood, Actually, I posted this because I went to the fruit market ($73.00 in ten minutes) and paid almost nine bucks for a watermelon (seedless, of course, those gene splicers took out all the fun of spitting pits) and I was appalled. Anyhow, I hope you sold your car to be able to afford your melon, lol. I'm thrilled the pacing worked for you, calm and conversational were exactly what I was aiming for, after all, that's how it used to be.


Dear Jul, Thank you for poignant, love. Sorry to hear you were also subjected to the wheezy breeze torture, in different degrees of humid, of course, lol.


Dear Cin, You're only a few years ahead of me, hon. Appreciate bittersweet, truly, for that's how it feels. I'm glad I could take you back with me, trips are so much better shared.


Dear Bay, Thank you so much for your generous words. That you think my stuff is relatable to readers means the world to me. What good is what we write if no one feels it? Happy you enjoyed the alliteration, I'm a sound junkie, gotta have my fix. As for the line length, I'll look at it, sometimes I sabotage my stuff with choppiness.


Dear Joe, Yes you do need to come by more often. Super happy you could relate, as long as the generalized feeling comes through, it doesn't matter if the memories differ. It's creating the atmosphere that's the hardest and the most important, that I succeeded to some degree is enough for me. That it isn't sappy is a gift, I can't stand sappy, I'd hate myself if I slipped into it. Appreciate your input regarding the lines, I thought they were okay, but since Bay's mentioned it, I intend to play a bit when time permits.


Dear Jeff, Danke, preacherman, a millionfold. I suppose you've read what I wrote to Joe, so there's no need to rehash. Your words of praise humble me, I've fallen off that tightrope so many times, it's nice to make it across for a change. Thrilled this worked so well for you.


Many thanks to you all for your precious time and sharing your valuable thoughts with me.

All my best,
Lisa

@ChestersDaughter Sorry I didn't mean to offend :O wasn't trying to say you old , and yes thank you, its so much clearer now and I do not think you are old

Ugh, Chief, I'm so sorry (yet again) I don't know how I missed this. These mad dashes I've been making to try and catch up when my kids don't need the computer to study have made me sloppy. You didn't offend me at all, hon, I was teasing you, so please turn that frown upside down. I'm glad I was able to clear things up, now if you'll excuse me, I have Geritol to take, it's past my bedtime of 7 and these old bones need some rest. lol.

Best,
lisa

Lisa, you might have grown up in my house! I learned to play pinochle at an early age, and my parents and I played with my grandfather on every visit. It's actually the way I always picture him, sitting at the kitchen table glancing at his cards. You may not be old, but I am. There would be 50's music in my version. We didn't have window fans yet, just the rotating kind that sat on a little stand. You waited impatiently for it to blow your way, then a brief relief and it was gone again.

I really enjoyed reading this. Loved stanzas 2 and 8. I've had similar poems in bits and pieces in my mind for years. I've always planned to put them into words. You've actually done it, and I like it a lot.