52 Poems: Weeks 47 and 48 Pablo Neruda on Keeping Quiet

With the year winding down and headlines reminding me of all that is wrong in the world, I need a poet to remind me to keep quiet. 

Footsteps

after Pablo Neruda’s “Keeping Quiet”

Now that you are walking

I can hear your footsteps

Pitter patter in the world.

I want to keep quiet,

to silence the noise of the world,

the shots fired on a winter morning,

the distant blast of bombs exploding

at the end of a marathon.

I watch you bravely take first steps

into this world 
of peace and violence,

truth and lies,
and remember to count
to twelve, and keep still.

Keeping Quiet

by Pablo Neruda

Now we will count to twelve
and we will all keep still.

For once on the face of the earth,
let's not speak in any language;
let's stop for one second,
and not move our arms so much.

It would be an exotic moment
without rush, without engines;
we would all be together
in a sudden strangeness.

Fisherman in the cold sea
would not harm whales
and the man gathering salt
would look at his hurt hands.

Those who prepare green wars,
wars with gas, wars with fire,
victories with no survivors,
would put on clean clothes
and walk about with their brothers
in the shade, doing nothing.

What I want should not be confused
with total inactivity.
Life is what it is about;
I want no truck with death.

If we were not so single-minded
about keeping our lives moving,
and for once could do nothing,
perhaps a huge silence
might interrupt this sadness
of never understanding ourselves
and of threatening ourselves with death.
Perhaps the earth can teach us
as when everything seems dead
and later proves to be alive.
 
Now I'll count up to twelve
and you keep quiet and I will go.

52 Poems: Week 38 Pablo Neruda

A love poem, an autumn image, a love preparing for loss. Such is life and love...

If You Forget Me
Pablo Neruda

I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine.

52 Poems: Week 15 "Haircut"

So, for National Poetry Month my students are working on collections and I am working on poems about motherhood. If you read last week's poem, you will recognize a few touchstones in "Haircut" in this call of words poem about those first snips of  Kiara's hair.

Haircut

by Noriko Nakada

Inspired Pablo Neruda's “You Will Remember”

Today I cut your hair

for the first time

just after your first birthday

because of Filipino tradition.

I consider keeping

those precious wisps of hair

like tiny feathers between my fingertips

and tying them up in ribbon.

I can hardly believe you—

the girl molded like clay

in my swollen womb—

are this little person sitting here now.

But the morning is busy

so I watch your feathery wisps

wash down the kitchen sink

and float away in silent water.

52 Poems: Week 14 Pablo Neruda

Love the language of this poem... we used it for a call of words in class this week and wrote about what I will remember, what Kiara will someday remember, where nothing is waiting and everything is.

You Will Remember
By Pablo Neruda  

You will remember that leaping stream
where sweet aromas rose and trembled,
and sometimes a bird, wearing water
and slowness, its winter feathers.
You will remember those gifts from the earth:
indelible scents, gold clay,
weeds in the thicket and crazy roots,
magical thorns like swords.
You'll remember the bouquet you picked,
shadows and silent water,
bouquet like a foam-covered stone.
That time was like never, and like always.
So we go there, where nothing is waiting;
we find everything waiting there.

April is National Poetry Month!

I penned a couple with my students for National Poetry Month. We used the Pablo Neruda poem "You Will Remember" as a spring board. Of course, I went back to my childhood haunts... I invite you to pen a poem for April as well!

You Will Remember
By Pablo Neruda

You will remember that leaping stream
where sweet aromas rose and trembled,
and sometimes a bird, wearing water
and slowness, its winter feathers.

You will remember those gifts from the earth:
indelible scents, gold clay,
weeds in the thicket and crazy roots,
magical thorns like swords.

You'll remember the bouquet you picked,
shadows and silent water,
bouquet like a foam-covered stone.

That time was like never, and like always.
So we go there, where nothing is waiting;
we find everything waiting there.

House on Jones Road

By Noriko Nakada
Inspired by Pablo Neruda’s “You Will Remember”

The house stands tall casting dark shadows.

The willow grows still, a tether of weeping branches.

Stiff roots press solid clay,

And water falls past those same shadows.

Breezes blow past carrying the same scents

In thin mountain air around a tall gray house.

The Deschutes
Inspired by Pablo Neruda’s “You Will Remember”

In town
Your water
Flows like glass
Slowness and mirrors
River as pond
And stones stand still.

Where you narrow
Water comes to life
The smooth click of rock
Striking rock
A rush of sound
And you tumble on.