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Help Me Understand, Monsieur
an Echo Poem
Monsieur Vincent, are those your boots?
My boots?
They speak of pain, hard work and tears.
And years,
of agony, darkness and loss.
The cross.
Or did they belong to some miner who died
Inside.
To those you served in those early days?
I prayed.
Those days of darkness and loss and tears.
And fear.
Monsieur Vincent, why did you try?
To die?
You saw the world in orange and blue.
True blue.
A world of agony, darkness and pain.
No gain.
Did you wear those boots the day you died,
I tried
and failed to find the love you sought
For naught
You never knew fame, only darkness and pain,
In vain?
Last week, Mary introduced us to the Echo Poem. I wasn’t able to participate then, but chose an old poem that I had filed in my binder titled “Edit or Trash” to rewrite using this technique. The form lent itself to a sort of dialogue with Vincent Van Gogh–someone I really hope to meet in the (not) distant future. In his early years he chose to minister to miners who lived (and died) in the worst of circumstances. He failed, even in that ministry.
And so, here is the first draft of a revision–if that’s not an oxymoron–for dVerse Open Link Night. Please join us with a poem of your own and be a part of the conversation led by Bjorn about performance poetry.
Victoria C. Slotto, Author 