this is your inheritance; do not dare leave this world with field-rocks in your pockets. plant your heart in every field, until the whole earth is bound in the roots of your veins. and when they steal that - we will steal the sky.
1. the only remaining-record for my great great grandmother's life is a short court document that states; 'the land stolen will never be her own' - life is not in the practice of giving back what it takes, and land has a way of becoming blood, and human flesh has a way of dying before we learn these things or realize we can fly. it is enough for me to know she tried, i will not tie her feathers to bitterness, i will not try to steal away soil in my shoes, or my hands, or my pockets, i will plant my garden in her honor and whisper to every straining tomato plant and geranium flower, 'this too is yours.'
2. the land killed my great grandfather before he was old enough to be old; though his skin was already weathered down in grooves of worry-lines, dynamite powder, and coal dust; and i always wonder if they were able to clean his fingernails before they buried him for the last time. if i saw him somewhere today, i would take out my nail-file and a bar of soap and a basin of well-water, and i would wash his hands until the grooves ran smooth. i would show him pictures of his son's and grandson's wrinkled faces, i would tell him they lived. i think of him when the soil clings to my own hands, and i promise him i will not track in soil in my home, even when nostalgia threatens to bury me too.
3. my grandfather farmed his whole life, with his whole life. one sun-baked plot of land split clean to seven brothers. some years the harvest was good, some years the seeds became rocks and gravel, and his daughters wandered the field harvesting stones. in the end it wasn't the sun that overturned the land inside out, it was the flood-waters. i never take rain for granted because of him. every drop in my cup, every river-bed, every sweat-soaked brow, i hear him saying 'the rain's coming strong tonight' - and i nod and believe i too am a prophet, and i warn my unborn children to not keep the field-stones in their pockets, in case the flood comes, in case the ground breaks, in case the land is stolen away - we will be light on our feet, when it is time to leave this earth, we will fly.
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Author's Note:
Thank you so much for taking the time to read!
This poem is formatted in the form of a "list poem" - meaning that the line breaks (or lack thereof) are intentional. Capitalization is also intentional.
The poem is part of my in-progress "heritage" poetry collection about my ancestry research and based off of three of my real life ancestors... My great great grandmother, who attempted to use the court system to get back land that she believed was taken from her, and lost. My great grandfather, who worked in the coal-mines. And my grandfather, who was a farmer. So here are some reflections about how these generational ties to the land are passed on and inherited.
Happy reading!
we are carved from the same plot of land
everything i carry home
sorting heirlooms
Hey alliyah! Ellie here for an in depth review of this fantastic list poem of yours. I remember reading this when you published it and loving it so much, so I am really glad to be able to finally take some time and break it down some more. Let’s jump right in!
Structure
This poem is written in a list-like style, where you go through three points. Each point seems to focus on a different person, who I assume to be your ancestors. You use a lot of cool techniques in this poem and it felt like you were experimenting with a bunch of different ways of expressing yourself. For example, in the first chunk where you strikethrough the word stolen, which is something you do again in the second section. I liked your simple structure, it wasn't overly complicated or distracting, which allowed me to really focus on the text. It felt like I was reading a family history book or something. I have done a lot of ancestry and genealogy work myself, so I liked seeing how you were able to collect and share these experiences from your own point of view. You used some italics and played around with capitalizations, which I loved.
Let’s dive into the actual text:
I loved this. To me, this means: this is who you are, do not leave the world with regret, leave a meaningful impact wherever you use your life to travel and embrace who you are and how your ancestors connect you to this earth. You start this off super powerfully, filled with so much emotion. Amazing work!
Part 1
I like your choice of words. Even describing a ‘short court document’ as the only record of her life starts us off with this feeling of not much acknowledgment of her life and existence.
But, as you say: it is enough to know that she tried (to get the land?). I love how you can take so much from so little. I have felt similar ways as I have done family history work. I see these people who I have never known, but sometimes it is the absence of information that makes me feel the most connected to them. All we have is records of deaths and moving overseas, but it is really inspiring to be able to see these little moments of their lives. I really loved the end part of this stanza where you talk about how you are applying her memories to your own life. In a way, living out the dream she had, by having land and letting something grow.
Part 2
In this second part, exploring your great-grandfather's life, to me it had a totally different feel to it. In my mind, perhaps he was a coal miner or did a very dangerous and dirty job. When you mention being buried “for the last time” that gives me the image of someone being buried in rocks after an explosion, or some sort of event that was very traumatic. I like that focus on the cleaning of the fingernails and hands, then the promise to never track in soil. To me, this almost shows a promise of moving away from the dangers of the past, now that things are better and that is not necessary. Not letting someone die without a purpose.
My favorite line was:
This feels healing and hopeful to me. I love it
Part 3
Right from the start, I really loved this. I loved the repetition of “whole life” being used to showcase a different way of looking at what someones entire life and meaning and memory can be.
I love how you tied the ending back to the beginning again, mentioning those field stones in pockets, which I interpreted to be a sense of regret or turning back. Also, the switch from “I” to “we” at the last sentence was nice too. Overall, reading this felt like a very honest and real reflection of life and death and everything in between, but it gave me hope because of the honesty and perseverance it shows. Amazing work, alliyah!
I hope you have a fantastic day!
-Ellie
What a terrific review Ellie, thank you so much for your careful analysis and praise! Great observations. Thank you!
method!
Smell The Flowers...
Introduction and first impressions!
Friend. Friend friend friend friend friend. I always knew the poet in you was simply too good to be true, but holy goodness I forget just how good. Of course I should know this; you've been the first person I think of when I think of poetry for most of my time on YWS, and yet you still surprise me with your mastery of words. *claps*
Anyways, I'm here from the poetry reviewing event here with the privilege to not just read, but to review a work as beautiful as this.
(A bit ironic that I'm using a review template I stole from you and revised to make it different? Just noticed ~)
Thorns
Thorns can be prickly, but people still love roses. What might be improved?
I'm by no means finding these critiques easily. How does one help improve a masterpiece? However, here are some things that I noticed...
The last section seemed a little different than the other two. It felt slightly more cliche and less thought out. (Not to a high degree and not in a bad way, necessarily. I couldn't find much to describe this, but those words but to a lesser degree sort of work.) Basically, it felt like to me that the first two parts had more meaning and thought packed into less, and the third fizzled out a bit. I think this may have been because the first two felt like they were specific - 1 had specific imagery of death and flight, 2 had hands and soil, but 3 felt less specific, with farming and rain. They felt more broad and were less explained.
I honestly quite loved this, but it took me a little longer to understand, and I'm not quite sure why? It may be just reading error on my part, but the sentence didn't fully make sense to me with stolen removed and without it removed (as is what I expect you mean it to be read with the strikethrough? Please correct me if I'm wrong). I thought I'd point this out in case anyone else mentioned the same and might be a problem with wording, or if it was just my error, as there's nothing immediately wrong with this.
Colors!
Everyone loves colors. What was amazing about the piece?I don't know what about this stuck out to me, but it stuck out hard. It's hard for me to put into words just how much the sentences you write impact me, seemingly at random. (and then you proceed to continue poeting as if nothing incredible was just written?) From the reader's point of view, which I am afraid is the only point of view I have, this feels like it's bursting with meaning that I honestly can't crack. But it doesn't necessarily need to be cracked by the reader to understand the importance it seems you've put behind every word?
Another thing to note about this: the descriptions the descriptions thank you thank you I love descriptions. This is not only pulling at my insides a bit for a reason I can't quite determine, it is also a beautiful use of description! (As are many other lines; this is merely a single example.) I've heard that using descriptions help the reader connect to the story/author/characters/meaning, whatever the case may be, and I can confirm that you have certainly grabbed my insides and twisted them around a bit. Not necessarily in a sad way, but certainly a way that's memorable and that makes me fall in love with this poem even more.
For the last time??! This line has so much I want to say about it starting off with "for the last time"??? He didn't die before, did he? I believe this is again one of those moments where a line in poetry has took me by surprise and just kind of clings to me. I want so bad to understand some more context and have more reason why this is the way it is. It gives me as the reader a moment of aha and just makes me stop and think for a bit, which is honestly one of my favorite qualities that a poem can have. Those poems that are easy to read through the first time are nice, of course, but those ones that make you stop and go "ohh" or "ooh" are some of the best poems I've ever read. And this poem manages to give that almost sense of eurika (more like wonder) multiple times. And again, describing his hands brings him to life, but it also gives the reader something to latch on to, something to grab hold of to imagine and care about. I've noticed that a lot of poems (or other works of fiction) tend to stick in my head longer if there is some kind of thing that separates them from others - themes are hard to make new; descriptions can be so unique with the right author and right context.
The quote above followed by
How did you do this so smoothly? They complete each other so well with that motif of flying, but I love the message that seems to come along with it. To me it feels like it's raising to heaven after you die, or in a non religious way, being freed from chains within life. I'm sure there are several more ways to interpret it, but this just left me feeling so nice. Your poem feels sad and hopeful, and the circle from beginning to end tied it all together beautifully.
Basket of Flowers
Closing thoughts
Thank you so much for writing and sharing your poetry! I'm sure YWS is just as grateful to have it as I much as am, but are even more happy to know that you're here. Keep writing alliyah, (as if I have to tell you that), as you're the queen of poetry and your words will live past the grave and even, might I say, fly?
I didn't quite have enough time to make this review as detailed as it should have been, so feel free to ask me any questions about the piece! I can reply below with more details on reactions, critiques, or the absolute beauty this! (For example, you could ask me about a certain line and what I thought) Or you don't have to, I just want to make sure you're getting a review for all it's worth.
Hey! Thank you for such a terrific review and the high poetic praise - I'm glad you like my poetry!
Thank you for engaging with it and letting me know how your processed and interpreted different parts.
So for that "the land (stolen) will never be her own" -> I'm reflecting on a court document which says "denied" for a request for my great great grandmother to have the land. It's meant to be ironic, because how can a court tell you that what is already yours is not your own. So with the word "stolen" removed it just means now the court has decided though she would like to have that land legally recognized as her own, it will never be her own. (Though as I say in the poem "land has a way of becoming blood" (or alive / inherited / more than land) and so even though it will never be legally recognized as her own, in a way it still always will be hers and will also never be hers. Land in a way is not something to be owned, but a thing to live and give life and take life (like blood). The strikethrough of "stolen" is kind of dual recognizing that it is stolen, and yet it can never be truly taken away. Hope that makes sense!
Glad this line stood out to you! I was happy with it too. My thinking was that he was physically buried many times in life (from physically going underground in coal-mines) but he was also metaphorically buried / killed many times in life - through imposed poverty, violence, and life-hardships. I'm really interested in the United States Coal Mining Riots / Coal Wars - and I believe I had relatives who played a role in them.
All three stanzas touch on relatives who were oppressed by external factors, but maintained their inner strength - and all through connection / life and death through the land. Which is why I think flight is a cool metaphor to pair with it - because it goes "beyond" the land - and I want my relatives and myself (in death & in life) to be more than the oppression of land (in memory and in the life to come). That is what I'd like my inheritance to be; not the weight or debt of what can't be changed, but the strength of what can be endured.
Hi alliyah! I love these explanations thank you so much! I love learning what went behind a poem, and this is honestly so beautiful. And yes, that does make sense now, thank you! I can't believe how much you've thought about this poem, this is absolutely beautiful. It's so awesome you wrote about your relatives in such a unique light - and the stories behind them are seriously so beautiful but so sad. Thank you again!!
Wow, i havent seen anything like this before. Its short but sweet and it gives this almost a longing feeling, while also being angry. I think that it is slightly unclear in some places though, but i think that comes from the shortness, and it doesnt take away from the story at all. I like the ending, We will fly, it has a double meaning, to fly, like to soar, but also to run, to escape. Good job.
Hello Hello, I hope you dont mind me poping with a quick ( really short and not as in-depth as my usual ones) review. I do enjoy the general themes being played with and the fact you go for a non-traditional poetic format. The idea of the land both being a social and physical inheritance is a very interesting one that I feel could be expanded on yet is tied together well here.
The biggest thing I have to give feedback on is the use of and many times in the same sentence. To me, it reads as a bit clunky and awkward However I do not have a solid rephrase for all of them.
Just to get my point across I will use this line as a rough example. "i would take out my nail-file and a bar of soap and a basin of well-water, and i would wash his hands until the grooves ran smooth." Could perhaps be changed to " i would take out my nail-file, a bar of soap and a basin of well-water, i would wash his hands until the grooves ran smooth." It's not perfect but might be a little less clunky in my view.
Oh, I would also maybe get rid of the and in this line." and when they steal that - we will steal the sky." I feel using when could give the same vibe well being a bit more direct. ( If this makes no sense I am a bit tired forgive me.)
All in all a very interesting read keep it and drink water!
Repeating conjunctions for list-emphasis is one of my main poetic conventions / styles; I actually wrote a whole NaPo thread last year about the conjunction "and" so I'll have to keep that!