First Fruit Poem by Donald Owen Cunnion

First Fruit



How did it taste, Eve?
Was it sweeter
Than any other
You had eaten of;
Was it acrid, did it taste of
Burnt earth and
Of the shudder of
All the creatures
That would never
Know the peace
Of abysmal ignorance?
Now that you have bitten it,
Have broken it's
Mottled glossy skin.
Did it taste, Eve,
Of light? Did it squirt
From its membranes
Of glass tissue
And capsules of honey acid
Into your mouth
As an explosion in a cave?
That clung there
In the black damp.
There couldn't have been guilt
Because there was no sin.
But now it is and not very original at that.
But the taste, was it green and raw?
Too early? Too ripe?
Rotten with spots
Cankered worm holes
With black rings curled down?
Was it like a bread fruit
Or furry like a kiwi?
Was it, for God's sake,
A grape or an olive?
A persimmon or cumquat?
Did it hang like a pomegranate
Touching the ground?
Do not eat me!
Let me seed. If time or chance
Free you from her tooth and tongue.
If man were all of equally
Pernicious juice and flesh,
Did she choose (Oh, did you, Eve?)
The one, from the many, the only one
And was it sweet?
Could you taste it even when
The angel drove you into the desert
Of the to be born race of Jews?
Did you reach your tongue to catch
The last dribble escaping
Across your cheek as you ran
Did it struggle against your rashness
And cling to the branch
And the branch to the limb
And the limb to the trunk
And the trunk to the root
To the moist rocky core of Eden?
Did the birds scream
And the winds shriek
In our ears and between your steps
And did this all not warn you?
But it was a gift offered
It was there
Was it hidden, or did
It stand forth along?
And smitten
For our miniscule liquid greed?
Could you, Eve, still taste it
In the humping of Adam
Who never would have had the courage
To take the fruit
And kick-start history
From the shadow of eternity
Into the bright promise of Armageddon?
Could you still recall it
While sewing and digging and killing
And skinning or did all this come first?
And when you gave birth
Was the taste of the memory there?
When you were banished
Did you gather all of the fruit
You could take with you
And save the seeds for a new tree?
Did it's skin invite you
Like a peach or repel you like
A lemon?
Did it whisper to you
Through long days of awe
In God's face?
Did the angels know?
Yes, of course, they new and you,
Eve, did you know
That you were condemning
All your children
To love things shiny and dead
And to know, to know, everything/

Thursday, September 18, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: guilt
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Donald Charon 18 September 2014

Donald, I really liked your poem. I don't say that often. Given time, if you go back and ponder, I believe you could rework it into something even better. Also- they new (knew) .

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