Kaveh Akbar. Photo by Paige Lewis
________________________________________________________
Stop Me If You've Heard This One Before
I can’t even remember my name, I who remember
so much—football scores, magic tricks, deep love
so close to God it was practically religious.
When you fall asleep in that sort of love
you wake up with bruises on your neck. I don’t
have drunks, sirs, I have adventures. Every day
my body follows me around asking
for things. I try to think louder, try
to be brilliant, wildly brilliant. We all want
the same thing (to walk in sincere wonder,
like the first man to hear a parrot speak) but we live
on an enormous flatness floating between
two oceans. Sometimes you just have to leave
whatever’s real to you, you have to clomp
through fields and kick the caps off
all the toadstools. Sometimes
you have to march all the way to Galilee
or the literal foot of God himself before you realize
you’ve already passed the place where
you were supposed to die. I can no longer remember
the being afraid, only that it came to an end.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Kaveh Akbar is the author of Pilgrim Bell (Graywolf 2021) and editor of The Penguin Book of Spiritual Verse (Penguin Classics 2022). In 2024, Knopf will publish Martyr!, Kaveh’s first novel.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Fiona Banner, Simpleton, Simpleton, Simpleton, oil on found painting, 77 x 127.5cm, 2021.
Gorgeous poem. Thank you.
Posted by: Barbara Henning | January 29, 2023 at 07:41 AM
brilliant
Posted by: lally | January 29, 2023 at 07:48 AM
Lovely and true.
Posted by: Ann Bracken | January 29, 2023 at 07:57 AM
I am in love with this guy for real.
Posted by: Grace Cavalieri | January 29, 2023 at 08:02 AM
Just enough mystery. Fine poem!
Posted by: Beth J | January 29, 2023 at 08:03 AM
Mysterious enough to let you get it.
Posted by: John Clarke | January 29, 2023 at 08:07 AM
I could never stop you even if I heard this a million times.
Posted by: Jody Payne | January 29, 2023 at 08:25 AM
Gorgeous. "To walk in sincere wonder"!
Posted by: Gerald Fleming | January 29, 2023 at 08:39 AM
"I can no longer remember/the being afraid, only that it came to an end." and that is how you land a poem. Also I love the article use of the article in "the being afraid". Thanks, Kaveh. Off to kick the cap off all the toadstools . . .
Posted by: KC Trommer | January 29, 2023 at 08:46 AM
" I can no longer remember
the being afraid, only that it came to an end."
Among the finest and truest poems I have ever read. Thank you Kaveh and Terence.
Posted by: Bill Nevins | January 29, 2023 at 09:23 AM
Bill: Thanks for the comment.
Posted by: Terence Winch | January 29, 2023 at 09:58 AM
This poem feels prayer-like, in the best sense. Akbar stays on a line, on the beam, loyal to what his true personal concerns are, and yet the stanzas pop, full of surprises with each sentence, which is not an easy feat. I and I'm sure others want to savor his words and go back over them a good number of times. A great pick Terence of a wonderful poet whose work's new to me--I'm really glad to have found him here.
Posted by: Don Berger | January 29, 2023 at 10:25 AM
I have rarely encountered such a depth of mysticism and consciousness of another world expressed in such ordinary language and ordinary images.Power.
Posted by: Dick Lourie | January 29, 2023 at 10:27 AM
I like this work a lot. It is excited -- & it makes me excited too.
Can't wait to read more poems by you, Kaveh.
Posted by: Tom Mandel | January 29, 2023 at 10:32 AM
Don: Thanks for the comment.
Posted by: Terence Winch | January 29, 2023 at 10:47 AM
What Dick Lourie said. A huge Yes to the poem, and also, in a much larger sense, to what it prays for. I needed and need this poem.
Posted by: clarinda | January 29, 2023 at 11:49 AM
Wonderful poem.
Posted by: Eileen | January 29, 2023 at 12:52 PM
After experiencing the upending spirit tangles in this work, kicking the caps of all the toadstool seems indeed practically religious to me.
Posted by: Miichael Whelan | January 29, 2023 at 02:04 PM
what nonsense
Posted by: bruce robinson | January 30, 2023 at 11:10 AM
Reread several times -- excellent poem!
Posted by: Thomas Devaney | January 30, 2023 at 11:48 AM
I also was following my body the first time man heard a parrot speak. Totally identify. Kaveh Akbar speaks for all humans here.
Posted by: Doug Pell | January 30, 2023 at 01:24 PM
This enchanting poem begins with a statement of what the poet does not remember. Then follow lines that bespeak effort and struggle followed then by the theme of sincere wonder. To reach this point, one must undertake a doggedly determined sort of pilgrimage leading to an encounter with the divine. Once again,as in the opening stanza, the poet does not remember, but this is a gift of freedom from fear of death.
Posted by: Peter Kearney | February 09, 2023 at 07:46 PM