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Inspired by a particularly delicious nectarine
A big thank you to Stygian Blue for critique and
carolynn ivy,
Florita, and also Blue again for being an inspiration.
Also carolynn informed me that apparently the very first time grapefruit was written about it was referred to as The Forbidden Fruit, which I had zero idea about! A stellar coincidence in my opinion
I'm going to give you a kidney stone or two. And they'll be the size of golf balls.
What is life if not the contrast between what has been and what will become?
Really beautiful poem. It always feel like it uses the right amout of words. Incredible job
this is fantastic. the form you've created and hold yourself to here is really wonderful and adds a great sense of rhythm to the work, and the breaking away from it really suggests a digression from dogma not only in the content of the piece but the form of the work itself. super neat. it also means you came up with astounding lines like "Wondering t'ward the holiness / Of holding soul in hand" which is just absolutely breathtaking.
the metaphor of the fruit's ambiguous identity is neat and the suggestion of the grapefruit, a creation only a couple centuries old and originally called "the forbidden fruit" itself, really asserts that this myth's place in modern society is something you're really having to grapple with. the title is as surprising as the ending and gives a sense of exertion and expulsion to what could otherwise be mistakenly seen as a relatively peaceful/thoughtful poem—but you don't make the mistake at all of pretending that holy ecstasy is calm, nor that discarding that ecstasy is a minor feat. i can't wait to see more of your poetry!! this one alone is getting me inspired.
This is astounding and gorgeous. I haven’t felt such living movement from a story since early high school.
🌙ONEIRONAUT
Gotta be honest, this would be an easy upvote but the white text just completely spoiled the impact.
I don’t think I understand. All the white-text is, is a joke between me and a friend who often uses white-text in poetry. It’s an invisible author’s note that is separate from the poem. If you don’t intend on upvoting, which is fine, it sounds like you liked it otherwise so could you at least novote it?
Thing is that I read enough stuff here and on the scp wiki to kind of instinctively highlight suspicious bits of white space as I read, and while this particular piece of white-text obviously wasn't meant to be a part of the piece, people more often than not use hidden text to contribute to the overall piece. Being unexpectedly hit with it right as I finished the poem just deflated the tone a fair bit.
Entirely a consequence of my particular way of reading of course, and a novote might be more appropriate, though to be fair the piece is hardly at risk of deletion either way.
honestly i love the little white-text bit… i noticed it too but my reaction was less one of disappointment than a little giggle. a little fuck-you-cheerleader-chant after all that deeply affecting poetry and religious trauma? i think it adds an unexpected human humor to the piece. a little jolt back to the stuff you DO actually carte about. im not surprised someone else might find it unamusing but it was hardly ruinous to me.
Love you too, dearest chlorophyllian thing!
What is life if not the contrast between what has been and what will become?
I wont pretend to fully understand the whole meaning behind this piece, but I still thought it was a nice poem nonetheless
I…
I am conflicted.
Perhaps I wanted this poem to be something its not, but it sorta disappointed me.
I'm gonna first map out how I see the flow of the story:
The fruit’s mud dribbles down my skin
Like the blood of a helpless
Animal.
I rest my knife upon its pit
Its soul used like a lever,
Sliceable.
Wedges form from its soft-haired flesh
In accordance with my will,
Pliable.
In the dull swish of steel through pulp
I recalled something holy,
Imaginal.
This is where I see the rising action, so to speak. The first stanza sets these analogies up 'juice -> blood', 'fruit -> animal'. This first stanza sets up a sort of violent streak in whatever entity the poem is about (hereby referred to as 'Speaker'). The next stanzas are much of the same: "Wedges form from soft-haired flesh", etc.
Back when
My trust
Was in
The Church
This first part of this section is very suspenseful, well done. The line "The Church" is the climax of this poem. Its a total tonal shift, and near perfectly opens a floodgate of new ideas about where the poem is headed: Perhaps the speaker will further relate fruit to religion? Perhaps the real metaphor here is 'fruit -> religion', and subsequently 'religion -> animal'? Or maybe it's 'fruit -> self' and the speaker has regrets about leaving the Church? These are the ideas that instantly came to mind for me, anyway.
I would joke, the forbidden fruit must have been
A grapefruitSince life was so bitter.
I'm not gonna lie; while this stanza did not break the flow of the piece, it does seem rather stranded to me. Alone. Perhaps this is only my style of poetry bleeding into my critique, but this stanza seems lost. However, it is impactful: it confirms our 'fruit -> religion' hypothesis. The grapefruit is bitter in taste, and thus wouldn't be preferable to the orange (Idk if a nectarine is actually an orange but its easier to spell orange so I'm rolling with that) which is sweet. Forbidden fruit = turning away from religion, orange = sweet = good, grapefruit = bitter = bad. So by the forbidden fruit being an orange, turning away from religion = good. Alright, we have the theme.
But now
I think
That when
Adam and Eve bit into that
fruitTheir teeth met the hard pit of a
nectarine
Further confirmation of the theme, falling action.
I suckle the blood off my claws.
Delicately pick up the
Stone.
Wondering t'ward the holiness
Of holding soul in hand. I
Atone,
Here comes the ending. The landing of the proverbial plane. Return to the theme of 'fruit -> animal' in the first stanza. The second stanza greatly confuses me. I hope it's simply a matter of my misunderstanding, but it just seems off… "Wondering t'ward the holiness / Of holding soul in hand." Possibly could equal 'Wondering what religion would think of me now'? Now that I've uncovered the soul of… religion? Perhaps the pit is supposed to be some sort of dark secret of fallacy? It seems to not work with what we have. Then comes the line: "I Atone", and this confuses me even further. Atone in mock? This almost seems like its here solely to rhyme (and if that's the case it would be hypocritical for me to blame you for it, I do stuff like that all the time). But, considering it's not, we're left marooned on an island of theme confusion.
For all that's left — pulp pit clasped
Putamen on keratin,
Alone.
And our conclusion to the poem. Wonderful word choice here: Putamen being the outer lentiform nucleus of the brain, but literally coming from the Latin for 'shell remaining after pruning' (idk if it has a botanical use but this is what google gave me and i'm rolling with it). Keratin again referencing the claws of the speaker. Really well done on that. But, this stanza continues the issues of the former. Does the speaker now feel regret? Have they been ostracized for seeing this 'pit' to religion? I think that's what it's saying, but then wouldn't the fruit be bitter-sweet, not just sweet? (wow i really took a deep dive into that analogy. If my inane ramblings are confusing, I mean: Since we previously established that the sweetness of the fruit was a metaphor for good and bad ((or overall feeling toward an action)) it would seem that this effect of that action is not good, or 'sweet'). It casts doubt on the earlier stanzas…
Oh, and the last line is supposed to be funny and I definitely wont bisect it for a continuation of the th-
And then I throw it in the compost.
This seems to be the speaker then deciding that having doubts or even the antithesis to doubts is silly, and throws away the pit (which is supposed to be the hard truth of religion: that it's useless) in a sort of nihilistic action that completely defers any meaning to the wider story???
In short: I don't know man. perhaps you could offer some clarity. anyhow, I also agree with the whitetext, and wish you a wonderful day. Great poem nonetheless, +1
okay re-reading this even like literally minutes after posting made me realize how good the imagery is, so I may have to do an addendum to this post to talk about just how damn good this piece is aside from my critique of the theme (because its really good and I dont want people to think i don't think its good, although my prior points still stand)
Fires rage just below the surface of the ice.
