Fruit Of The Flower Poem by Countee Cullen
Fruit Of The Flower
My father is a quiet man
With sober, steady ways;
For simile, a folded fan;
His nights are like his days.
My mother's life is puritan,
No hint of cavalier,
A pool so calm you're sure it can
Have little depth to fear.
And yet my father's eyes can boast
How full his life has been;
There haunts them yet the languid ghost
Of some still sacred sin.
And though my mother chants of God,
And of the mystic river,
I've seen a bit of checkered sod
Set all her flesh aquiver.
Why should he deem it pure mischance
A son of his is fain
To do a naked tribal dance
Each time he hears the rain?
Why should she think it devil's art
That all my songs should be
Of love and lovers, broken heart,
And wild sweet agony?
Who plants a seed begets a bud,
Extract of that same root;
Why marvel at the hectic blood
That flushes this wild fruit?
Parents only want us to follow in their shoes' footprints, not the naked ones. Loved this poem.
This is such a wonderful poem on being able to be who you feel you truly are. It matters not where we come from. Every person has the right to live freely as they see fit whether it follows the dictates of mainstream society or not. This is a nice eye opening reminder write to be true to you! Always!
A realization that I am who I am, not what you desired me to be...writing poetry instead of pursing a trade was thought of as hedious. Countee reveals the disaproval and scorn of his parents for the choices he made. Delightful, rebellious and acceptance of his love for art and beauty.
i wasn't familiar with this poem and was glad to read it. interesting to think how traits, how talents are passed on. my older son, for example, has stand-out musical talent which doesn't show in either my wife nor me. it was apparent though in my mother. i also relate to a son musing on his gifts and interests in comparison to his parents. if he is like me, he has only or mostly seen their personas. how many of us know much of the shadows, the depths of our parents? and if we do know, is it because our parents shared them or because we learned of them from others? glen kappy
And though my mother chants of God, And of the mystic river, I've seen a bit of checkered sod Set all her flesh aquiver. a very fine poem. tony
....A pool so calm you're sure it can/Have little depth to fear.........................Just beautiful (10)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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12/8/2024 9:16:37 PM # 1.0.0
How I love this man's work........beautiful.. a friend of mine had the good fortune to be one of his pupils.......... .in some poetical 'hereafter', perhaps they've met once again..........................