Blind Man's Banquet

Blind Man’s Banquet
Inspired by ‘Whore’s Bath,” by Jorie Graham



But even the full brilliance of this bread, and the water on my tongue,
will not make the colors appear;
and where the tastes create palaces, the wall remains a mirage
of black and white.

Oh, when will the richness of the mind allow the beggar’s
bread to be its true
brown? Here the marvelous sensation cannot reconcile
the real and the imagined.

How can the grapes not be so succulent as to design
the purple hues before my eyes?
Bitterest of wines, the clear liquid runs down my throat;
this I know to be,

though no witness
of mine founded the discovery.
Trust in the shallow words of others has been my holy book,
the one requiring no collage of colors

to guide me. Call Oedipus here, let me hear him.
This conundrum
only one with both lives can solve
for me. The pear is rotting with maggots,

poison of a diseased mind.
So strong, their writhings in my mouth like a temple
are; how can even such greater deities
prevent the insects’ reality from changing the blank screen…

Still, nothing, but an eternal night,
the monotonous tones
of the desert, the desert lacking the clear depth
of the forest, there, at the edge.

What I desire is
what others cannot give; the mystery of the flickering moment,
bright,
all that is beyond.

This is a really interesting poem. I've never read "Whore's Bath" so I can't review it based on that, so I'll just say what I think about this poem alone. I really like the first three stanzas. I can just picture a blind man sitting in a hall eating and trying to see the food. The rest of it is more figurative (or at least that's what I got out of it) and I didn't completely understand it, so I kind of skimmed it until the last stanza, which I liked as much as the first three. Overall, a pretty good poem.

~Amylith

Hello!

I'm pressed for time, but I want to at least give a small review rather than none at all.

You had a very interesting theme here. Couldn't find Graham's poem, although it sounds intriguing.

I like the philosophical sound, and it was rather refreshing to read. Watch out for the odd splits between stanzas, and improper capitalization/comma use. Sometimes you capitalized and sometimes you didn't, and the inconsistency was rather irritating.

The insect–temple stanza could use some strengthening; the idea is fine, but it needs some clarity to help the reader sort through such vivid imagery.

The ending is decent, so kudos for that. Overall, I think you have a decent poem; I know there was a Greek subtext which I missed out on, but I think everything was good regardless of my ignorance concerning the poem's background.

PM me if you want to dialogue about this. (I hate to be vague, but I don't have time– maybe later, if you want further details).

–antimelrose

Hullo there. Here goes:

This website is about giving constructive criticism, so that's what I'm going to be doing; but I am going to do so, while being honest about my opinion, and up front - I dislike your poem. I don't think your writing is horrible, but this poem is as confusingly composed as it is offensively pretentious.

Normally, I wouldn't have left a comment and have let someone else handle it, but your poem was on page three, I was out looking for 'oldies but goodies' to critique, and it just wasn't going to happen. I am really not trying to be mean, but I am so disappointed. I just feel like you had a really interesting idea but no perspective. By the third 'stanza,' I was incredulously miserable.

Where was your horizon? What was your point?
There was no provocation except annoyance; I found nothing rewarding about this poem.

I am sorry if you or anyone else finds this comment to be unfair. Maybe if you could explain it to me, I might be able to help more than to express my frustration. I am not speaking out against you personally, but as a writer I felt responsible to say something. I know many people who are blind, or have another type of detrimental physical limitation or disability, myself included- and we would have it no other way; we are better people because of it. It doesn't matter if it was from birth or occurred later in life, and of course we want what our limitations keep us from having, but life isn't tainted, dark, or ruined.

Sincerely,
M.

Hello.
As a response to your review, Mandorelute, I agree with you on some points. I don't have perspective. You are absolutely right. I appreciate what you said, and I was planning on changing this poem anyway. I realize Graham's poem, which this was inspired by, is not on the internet; I think, however, this would help explain the poem a little bit more.
I really am sorry if it disappointed or offended you; I can assure you that was not my intention. I'm glad you said something: if you think it truly offensive, than I shall consider removing it entirely.
Thank you for commenting and sharing your thoughts. Thank you for putting it into perspective. I appreciate it.

--Glim

I am impressed. Thank you for hearing me out without getting defensive. I really believe that you have a lot of talent. I don't know which poet or poem you referring to. Someone you know online maybe?
I would love it if you could help me understand your inspiration, intention, your heart behind writing this poem. If you could make me understand, I could be of more assistance helping you accomplish and add depth to those goals.

Again, thank you for being courteous and sincere in your response, especially because in doing so you won my respect.

At your service,
Mandorelute

Thanks for your reply!

Jorie Graham is a published poet and won the Pulitzer in 1996 for her book “The Dream of the Unified Field.” I wrote a tribute poem to her piece “Whore’s Bath” as an exercise for an English class. Her poem is, at a very basic level, about a woman who takes many baths and yet feels she cannot get clean. I feel the part of the poem I tried to imitate here was the longing for something you weren’t able to have. So I used the imagery of a blind man who ate many meals, but was not able to see them.

I didn’t aim for the same unpleasant connotations as Graham’s poem’s subject had, and I hope I was successful in that. I attempted to add the philosophical aspect of her piece, though – in my poem, I thought more about examining the concept of blindness rather than actual, physical blindness, just as Graham examines the concept of uncleanliness.

By this, I mean that I wanted him to question sight itself: whether it was real, whether there was any other reality, and whether what “seeing” humans told him was the truth. I wasn’t aiming for him to feel degraded, exactly, by his lack of physical sight; I think I was trying more for him to be questioning reality, his and that of others.

It is a dark poem, and I think I might consider changing that. When I first wrote this poem, I was trying to very closely imitate Graham’s piece, which is quite unhappy and desperate. Now that I can write it for myself, I might add a twist onto the poem and add an uplifting ending. I would greatly appreciate any suggestions you or others might have as to what I could to improve this poem’s quality and content.

I hope this helps your understanding of the poem; if you would like to know more about it, you can PM me, too.

Thanks so much for your help,

--Glim