A Ballad about a Ballad, in Two Parts
How To Say The Word Kiss
The words were some of his very few,
and were written by my hand at his end.
I scrawled it on scraps of napkins
he had left unused next to his bed.
He’d never been one for much talking,
preferring to glower, purse his lips and shake his head.
Gone now was the man who’d never gone walking,
and a well-journeyed adventurer lay in his stead.
He told a tale I’d never imagined
of longings, lust and love,
of his traveling the world over and over
in search of a suit that fit like a glove.
My pen flew easily across the napkins,
his words appeared there like a silken thread:
a tapestry of nearly never-told stories,
a fragile recording of his newly keen ken.
His memory may have been wobbly.
He did speak of abnormal things:
of acrobats with fast peristalsis
and wombats wearing fortunes in bling.
He’d even brushed off a dusty lion
while it was feasting on snakes!
His life now had been one of roaming,
a long itching of many an ache.
But as his end came very close
he quickened, and my scratching paused.
He softened, I listened, and we both sat dazed,
as he uttered the most startling of all:
“All moments of chaos eventually settle
into islands of exquisite calm and bliss.”
and
“All that matters is the k
when you say the word kiss.”
I maintained that the s mattered much, much more,
but he never did hear me disagree,
because with the fading of that letter's sound,
my father’s once angry life ceased to be.
I calmly recorded onto flimsy paper
those last words from his now still lips,
then I rose to lean over his body
and I closed our chapter with my kiss.
In Short
Our suits come in all sizes,
and some of us wear them well,
but all of us have true stories
that come squeaky clean when we tell.
I knew even before this contest was posted for The Ink Well community that I would be spending the better part of my week writing my entry. But when the prompt was (finally) posted, I was a bit crestfallen. “What? I have to write a ballad?!” I had never done any such thing and at first it seemed an unwelcome imposition on my usual freestyle of writing poetry.
Writing about a legend seemed simple enough. My thoughts went right away to the “legend” of how so many Greeks ended up in my very small hometown in the foothills of Appalachia. When I was young, all the Greeks agreed that my grandfather, my Papou, was the first Greek in town, having jumped off the train there to get some lunch. He liked the town so much that he wrote to all his friends back in Greece and said “I’ve found the place, now come.” And they did, a great many of them. I didn’t get far with that idea though; there wasn’t enough meat in it to make an interesting story.
Then I remembered the napkin, photo below, that I had written that very story down on when my father told it to me for one last time. Dad was a mellow and voluble man by then, no longer scary at all, loving even.
That was what I needed to get working on a fictional story about a man’s last words, written by his daughter on a napkin. Having to write it as a ballad was a huge challenge. After several hours I had a draft, then I spent hours and hours and hours tinkering with the clunky thing to smooth it out into a cohesive story. I'm sure there are more improvements that could be made; every time I read it I make another tiny adjustment. It's agony! But agony that, since you are reading this, has come to an end.
Parts of the poem came out exactly as they remain now. Those two final quotes from the father were never changed at all, and the second part titled In Short also popped right out exactly as it is now posted for posterity. As a freestyle poet, I took some liberties with the ballad form, I know. I hope you will forgive those. They work for me.
I wrote something very unlike anything I have ever written before. And I like it. I am grateful for that opportunity. Thanks so much for reading my work.
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Wow, this was a wonderful and powerful poem @owasco. And an amazingly competent ballad given that you have never written in this form before! The ballad How To Say The Word Kiss engenders pathos and a sadness, that touches my heart personally as I was the only person by my grandfather's bed side as he passed and heard him utter his last words. He, unlike your father, remained very bitter until the end and his final words were of that mindset.
Your poem shows how many people change and mellow in old age with a life well lived, and this often manifests in the most profound realizations at that transition between life and what comes after.
Thank you for such an accomplished and emotionally vulnerable ballad @owasco. It means so much to me to me to see great poetry like this posted to The Ink Well, and knowing that my prompt even had the smallest part in inspiring someone to challenge themselves as a writer makes my heart soar.
From a technical stand point this poem has many examples of modern poetic devices that show craft and artistry:
Alliteration, in-line rhymes and half rhymes:
Using modern devices like this is the calling card of a contemporary poet writing in an ancient form. A meeting of two styles and times, expressed through poetry. This is what I strive for when writing in form, and what modern published poets do so well, bringing new poetic devices to the constraints of form. You do a masterful job of the ballad, especially given you write almost exclusively in free verse 🙂
No worries, so did I with the poem I used as an example in the prompt post.
Ha ha, I am a cruel taskmaster ;-) But the form was optional, but in your case, I think that you have made something amazing and unique through challenging yourself with the form of the ballad.
I'm so glad you got a lot out of it.
In conclusion I would just like to say that your final verses were sublime...
Wisdom that almost comes from a place transcendental, poignant and cathartic.
This is @raj808 commenting from the community account.
Thanks again for such an accomplished and excellent ballad 🙂
Raj, you beat me to it with the praise and appreciation for this ballad - but you didn't mention the photo at the end, so I get to say #AWESOME photo!!! The notes on napkins at the bedside of the dying man - what a powerful image - what an immense effort to capture and preserve his words, at the end.
I especially love this:
His memory may have been wobbly.
He did speak of abnormal things:
of acrobats with fast peristalsis
and wombats wearing fortunes in bling.
You have a gift for contrasting the darkest moments with the "nonsensical," which ultimately makes as much sense as anything.
I love the dispute (unspoken!) about the K vs the S.
One hallmark of great poetry and prose is the author's #ear. At a writer's workshop, way back when, @rhondak and I despaired over efforts to help a certain "gregory" write prose that didn't sound like square wooden wheels. His grammar was precise and correct, his sentences complete, but his prose so stilted, readers couldn't engage with his characters.
Some things cannot be taught. You have the "ear," @owasco, and the gift!
I worked really hard on this Carol! (read my comment above to raj) It took forever. I posted nothing else all week because this is all I did.
I'm delighted with how people have responded to it, the best reward there is. It's interesting that you chose this part
to highlight, because that was one of the other bits that came out that way as a freewrite and never needed changing. The freewritten parts contain the magic ingredients, hen the writer has to get all the magical ingredients to work together to cast a spell. Something like that. I could use another cup of coffee. xo
I mean below, read my comment to raj below
I remember that certain "gregory" and his square wheels....
The napkin at the end was just the icing on the cake.
i din't know what to say.
It was so sad... even I have my moments (as big burly bloke) king of writing torturous scenes, but this ending made me cry, I'm jut a kitten really ! ;-)
oh my I just saw this comment! It made me cry too.
Thank you raj808!
I'm so glad I did. It wasn't easy. For the first few days, except for the few parts that came out right at the first, the whole thing read like the square wooden wheels that @carolkean mentioned. I despaired I would ever make those wheels round. But I persevered. My earlier drafts had all the parts that I knew were ineffective in red typeface, and half the thing was red. Gradually I worked those parts out until I could turn their letters black, and sometime yesterday the whole thing was black. At that point, I started reading it out loud to make sure it fell trippingly and continued to make tiny changes. That was a rush, like a haiku falling into place.
I sure don't write poetry for the (unmentioned) prizes, or the curation but for the goosebumps my own work gives me, and hopefully a few readers, when it's finished. That's how I know a piece of mine, poetry or fiction, is nearly done - when I read it and I get goosebumps.
Thanks again! Great contest! I will definitely be back. 11 PST tomorrow, right?
I love it! It's a great piece, the story, the words, the images you describe. And yes, I love the fact that you did not stick to the rules (Freestyle works for me too most of the time and whenever I tried to work on specific form - for contests - I kept trying and trying until I could "abide by the rules". It certainly spoils the enjoyment of spontaneous inspiration, but it's a great exercise).
I will say it again, this is a lovely piece! Good luck with the contest!! 🤗
Thank you! I see one of your rainbows all over it.
I am here thinking of reditting what I am calling my entry or just give this up. Is this where this skilled master wants us? How can one compete with raw emotions? What a beautiful piece. Honestly, all the best ♡
I thought I responded to this already, but it's not here now. So forgive me if I repeat myself:
You are a great poet! Your work is loaded with raw emotions and spectacularly apt descriptions. You undervalue your work. It's good! Just put it out here!
Thanks for your lovely comment. xo
I undervalue it because I don't think I am that good. Working towards accepting that I am or at the very least, I try.
Thank you for insisting 💜
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I think I must have had the opposite reaction to you, "I can write a ballad, but it has to be about a legend !" lol but you did an exceptional job of rising to this :)
The story in this is so beautiful. It has the subtlety of pastels, conjuring an image of evening tones drifting through an open window, to these final moment. The sense of emotion and history come through so strong through out every verse.
This verse struck me with such a sense of pride wound up in affection. The contrast of the man once known and the man known now really captures the history of a life time and that unique depth of relationship between parent and child.
I love the two-fold element in this poem, so much sadness bound in the gift of sharing. Stories that weren't told until the end, it made me think a lot of members of my own family. We lost a great aunt last year, we had been there at the end but in her final moments, she didn't share anything of herself, just her concerns for us, taking time out of day to be there. In going through her things we discovered so much we will never get to ask her about now, things will we never know. The 'nearly never-told' really got me, its easy not to share, to feel like it isn't worth the time of others, and equally it's easy not to listen, to be caught up in the humdrum of life and not give someones recollections the weight they are due. It really made me want to do everything I can to make as many of the stories I haven't heard yet just that, nearly never told.
I love these two verses, they capture that impossible-to-capture dreaminess of memories shared by someone looking back. The fragments that seems absurd, and might be, but then might be exactly what happened.
this is such a perfect note. It carries respect and affection, as well as a sense of self that most parents would be so proud to know their child possessed.
The way you end this is so powerful, the truth built on maintains it's thread throughout, and the human moment at the end is really moving. Gut filling emotion that smudges the eyes. Thank you, this was a pleasure to read.
Oh wow thank you!
Doesn't get better than that. It's lovely to be writing with you.
Hi I'm back. I'm really affected by your comment and I want to say more.
Your Aunt. So much is gone when a person dies. All they knew, all they could have said, all they wanted to say. Your aunt wanted to show her concern for you, there's nothing more loving than that.
My character said all he had always wanted to be, but was not. Then at the last he became a sage. There's that sage deep within each of us. I think that's what my story was trying to say, especially in the second 'part'.
I didn't really know why I felt compelled to include that until now.
You chose some of my favorite lines to highlight.
The best comments teach me something I didn't even know about my own work. You've written one of those.
That leaped out at me too - what a profound insight - all of us have true stories
that come squeaky clean when we tell. Not because we lie and tell only the parts that make us look good, but because we may leave out some of the sordid details and focus on the good - but I'm getting lost now in the theology of poetry and the distillation of the truth. That's the word I was after. In the telling, these stories may be distilled - purified, condensed - if that makes sense!
It also reminds me of the sacrament of Confession: it is in the telling that we come "clean."
To focus on the good brings us closer to truth. I like that.
Hi @owasco
This is @raj808 founder and curator at The Ink Well.
I just wanted to stop by to let you know that I chose your excellent poem for submission to OCD's new community curation initiative, which you can read more about here and your poem 'How To Say The Word Kiss' has been featured in the ocd compilation post of the best authors from a variety of the new hive communities.
The Ink Well is one of around 6 communities chosen to submit posts daily for both the ocd vote and inclusion in their publication:
OCD Daily: Community Issue #514
I'm really happy about this development for our community and hope you will continue to post your poems and short stories at The Ink Well as we're really impressed and value great creative writing here.
If you want to read a recent announcement about this new curation for The Ink Well check out this post: Good News Story - The Ink Well Joins @OCD'S Community Curation
All the best, and thank you for being an active contributor at The Ink Well :)
Yes I've seen both of these already and I greatly appreciate your appreciation and support! I will most definitely be back. Great project! Thanks for doing what I am sure is a lot of work to make it happen.