{"id":1634,"date":"2015-12-03T16:56:50","date_gmt":"2015-12-04T00:56:50","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/ajmerrode.com\/?page_id=1634"},"modified":"2015-12-03T19:20:49","modified_gmt":"2015-12-04T03:20:49","slug":"poems-at-my-doorstep","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/ajmerrode.com\/?page_id=1634","title":{"rendered":"Poems At My Doorstep"},"content":{"rendered":"

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"Poems<\/a><\/p>\n

Poems At My Doorstep<\/em> <\/strong>is my second book of poetry in English, published by Carolyn Zonailo under The Caitlin Press Poetry Series.\u00a0 Carolyn heard me read\u00a0at\u00a0a session of Vancouver\u00a0International Writers’ Festival where Estonian poet Jaan Kaplinski, Carolyn and I read our poems. Afterwards Carolyn asked me if <\/span>I would like to try my poems for<\/span> publication with the Caitlin. To\u00a0my surprise and delight Canada Council jury approved the manuscript for assistance. Thanks to Carolyn\u00a0who did the final editing and published the book.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

“The poetry in Poems At My Doorstep<\/em> is honest, conscientious, and imaginative- definitely fresh in style and perception<\/span> <\/span>– Carolyn Zonalo;\u00a0 poet, publisher<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

“This collection clearly contains some of Ajmer Rode’s finest poems to date. Gentle, unguent and emphatic, they paint a deft, memorable portrait of the Earth’s family, with all its squabbles, joys and fears. Ajmer Rode is becoming a father in the best, most nurturing sense of the term, more interested in the search for understanding than in conquest.” <\/span>– Andreas Shroeder,\u00a0<\/strong>poet, fiction writer,\u00a0 broadcaster, creative writer teacher at the UBC\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

“In these family poems there is a simplicity and genuine emotion not often found in Canadian poetry. ‘Mustard Flowers’\u2026illustrates the color, vividness, concreteness, and directness of Rode’s imagery.” <\/span>– Laurence Steven and Heather Arnett, <\/strong><\/span>Canadian Book Review Annual, 1992<\/span><\/p>\n

“To write good poetry in two languages is akin to mastering both piano and violin\u2026. Poems like these (Mustard Flowers<\/u> and Waiting for Rusty<\/u>) express the universal human tragedy of literal ‘dis-location’ more powerfully than any well-meant politicized party-piece.” <\/span>– John Moor; critic, freelance writer,\u00a0<\/strong><\/span>\u00a0The Vancouver Sun<\/span><\/p>\n

“Rode represents the confusions of old age and the innocence of infancy; and he salutes the unity of life.” <\/span>– George Woodcock; critic, prose writer, <\/strong><\/span>BC Bookworld<\/span><\/p>\n

“I find this an extremely interesting collection. Readily accessible, insightful and genuinely humane. Recommended for secondary school libraries.” <\/span>– Patrick Dunn, <\/strong><\/span>Annual Literary Review<\/span><\/p>\n

“This reader is delighted to browse through these poems, some of which are gentle and vivid like winter pansies.”\u00a0<\/span> Dr. Vidyut Aklujkar, <\/strong>UBC<\/span><\/p>\n

“Ajmer Rode’s early meditative lyrics are experimentation on form and language, preparations for his more mature work which tends to longer lines and complex social issues, interspersed with fine lyrical passages.” <\/span>– Diane McGifford, <\/strong><\/span>The Geography of Voice<\/span><\/p>\n

“Ajmer Rode’s Poems At My Doorstep<\/em> are ‘doorstep’ poems in their explorations of places in which the domestic life of one culture meets the public life of another.” <\/span>– Alexander M. Forbes, <\/strong>in C<\/strong><\/span>anadian Literature #137, summer 1993<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Poems from Poems At My Doorstep<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

Mustard Flowers<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

If you see an old man sitting alone
\n<\/span>at the bus stop and wonder who he is
\n<\/span>I can tell you.
\n<\/span>He is my father.<\/span><\/p>\n

He is not waiting for a bus or a friend
\n<\/span>nor is he taking a brief rest before
\n<\/span>resuming his walk.
\n<\/span>He doesn’t intend to shop in the
\n<\/span>nearby stores either
\n<\/span>he is just sitting there on the bench.<\/span><\/p>\n

Occasionally he smiles and talks.
\n<\/span>No one listens.
\n<\/span>No body is interested.
\n<\/span>And he doesn’t seem to care
\n<\/span>if someone listens or not.<\/span><\/p>\n

A stream of cars, buses, and people
\n<\/span>flows on the road.
\n<\/span>A river of images, metaphors and
\n<\/span>similes flows through his head.
\n<\/span>When everything stops
\n<\/span>at the traffic lights it is midnight
\n<\/span>back in his village. Morning starts
\n<\/span>when lights turn green.
\n<\/span>When someone honks his neighbor’s
\n<\/span>dog barks.
\n<\/span>When a yellow car passes by
\n<\/span>a thousand mustard flowers
\n<\/span>bloom in his head.<\/span><\/p>\n

A tall man passes with his shadow
\n<\/span>vanishing behind him. My father
\n<\/span>thinks of Pauli who left his village
\n<\/span>for Malaya and
\n<\/span>never came back. A smile appears
\n<\/span>on his lips and disappears.<\/span><\/p>\n

When nothing interesting seems to
\n<\/span>happen he starts talking again:
\n<\/span>where were you born, and where
\n<\/span>have you come?
\n<\/span>Shall you ever go back?
\n<\/span>It is all destiny, yes a play of
\n<\/span>destiny, you see.
\n<\/span>He muses
\n<\/span>and nods his head:
\n<\/span>and where will you die my dear?<\/span><\/p>\n

The thought of death is most
\n<\/span>interesting and lingers on
\n<\/span>He stops talking and thinks of the
\n<\/span>Fraser Street chapel where he
\n<\/span>has attended many funerals:
\n<\/span>He thinks about the black
\n<\/span>and red decorations and
\n<\/span>imagines himself resting peacefully,
\n<\/span>a line of people
\n<\/span>passing by looking at him
\n<\/span>for the last time.
\n<\/span>His eyes are lit. Perhaps
\n<\/span>this is the image he enjoys most
\n<\/span>before it is demolished
\n<\/span>with the rude arrival of a bus.<\/span><\/p>\n

Passengers get down and
\n<\/span>walk away briskly like ants.
\n<\/span>The bus leaves.
\n<\/span>He looks
\n<\/span>at the traffic again to see
\n<\/span>if a yellow car is passing by.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u00a0Once She Dreamed<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

Once she dreamed she was Mileva,
\n<\/span>the long haired Serbian girl
\n<\/span>who married Albert Einstein. She
\n<\/span>quietly watched when Einstein twisted
\n<\/span>the absolutely
\n<\/span>flat space with his hands.
\n<\/span>She watched
\n<\/span>when Einstein broke the absolute
\n<\/span>flow of time into pieces and
\n<\/span>spun them around at different
\n<\/span>speeds.
\n<\/span>She was there when Einstein
\n<\/span>reconstructed the shattered universe.
\n<\/span>As he became greater and greater
\n<\/span>he grew modest and tender.
\n<\/span>When finally the world came to
\n<\/span>touch his hands
\n<\/span>Mileva smiled and left.
\n<\/span>She said she still liked to live
\n<\/span>in her own absolute space
\n<\/span>and move at her own pace.<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/strong><\/span>Once she dreamed she was
\n<\/span>Francis Gilot.
\n<\/span>the young woman who married
\n<\/span>Pablo Picasso.
\n<\/span>She saw Picasso with the tip of
\n<\/span>his brush
\n<\/span>tear apart the calm, surrounding
\n<\/span>the objects on his canvas.
\n<\/span>She saw faces turning into cubes
\n<\/span>and cones.
\n<\/span>When Picasso was engulfed
\n<\/span>in cubes of fame
\n<\/span>Gilot left.
\n<\/span>She said she wouldn’t become a cube.<\/span><\/p>\n

Then she dreamed of Jeanny,
\n<\/span>who married Karl Marx.
\n<\/span>Jeanny read stories to her
\n<\/span>hungry children
\n<\/span>as Marx fed the hungry of the
\n<\/span>world in his imagination.
\n<\/span>As his beard curled more and more,
\n<\/span>Jeanny saw Marx grow into a
\n<\/span>prophet trying to unseat the lords.
\n<\/span>When infuriated gods came
\n<\/span>upon him Jeanny stood at the door,
\n<\/span>wondering.<\/span><\/p>\n

Last night she dreamt nothing
\n<\/span>The man she married
\n<\/span>had quietly disappeared.
\n<\/span>She says he was confused, depressed
\n<\/span>and needed care.<\/span><\/p>\n

A sad vacuum expanded in her
\n<\/span>and burst.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\"Capture\"<\/a><\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Poems At My Doorstep is my second book of poetry in English, published by Carolyn Zonailo under The Caitlin Press Poetry Series.\u00a0 Carolyn heard me read\u00a0at\u00a0a session of Vancouver\u00a0International Writers’ Festival where Estonian poet Jaan Kaplinski, Carolyn and I read our poems. Afterwards Carolyn asked me if I would like to try my poems […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-1634","page","type-page","status-publish","h-entry","hentry","h-as-page"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/ajmerrode.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/1634","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/ajmerrode.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/ajmerrode.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ajmerrode.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ajmerrode.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=1634"}],"version-history":[{"count":10,"href":"https:\/\/ajmerrode.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/1634\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1658,"href":"https:\/\/ajmerrode.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/1634\/revisions\/1658"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/ajmerrode.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1634"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}