If I could study these spheres long enough
to see canals as Schiaparelli saw,
or invent for them tragic civilizations
like those dying while Lowell watched,
these pomegranates might reveal
the wildest tricks of the light.
Iād stake my rep on pomegranate people
living out tiny desperate lives,
their doomed world sure to be destroyed
for the jeweled seeds inside.
ā
This is for Read Write Poem’s Image Prompt (#103), a picture of two pomegranates. Inspired as much, I think by my recent reading of Mars: The Lure of the Red Planet by William Sheehan and Stephen James O’Meara, a fascinating history of our understanding of Mars.
Where there were pomegranates, I saw planets. I suppose we’re all a bit like Schiaparelli and Lowell in that we often see what we want to see.
For those who may not know, Giovanni Schiaparelli (1835-1910) was the Italian astronomer who first reported seeing “canali” on Mars. It was a trick of the light and the human eye as well as, possibly, his colorblindness, but the name “canali,” which in Italian means “channel” was mistranslated to “canal” in English. American astronomer Percival Lowell (1855-1916) took canal to mean artifical channel and reasoned that Mars was populated by a dying civilization building canals across the surface to irrigate the deserts with what little water remained on their doomed planet.
Read what others saw in those two pomegranates here.
Update: Don’t miss Angie Werren’s “planet pomegranate” at woman, ask the question. She too saw Mars in those fruits and wrote an amazing poem.
James Brush is a teacher and writer who lives in Austin, TX. He tries to get outside as much as possible.
poor little people, living dry as dust above such magma
Such tasty magma, though. I guess it would be more tragic if they were tearing their own pomegranate apart for its seeds.
I saw pomegranate’s as metaphor for people (and that’s as far as I got), and there is a touch of that in the last stanza…at least, to my eyes.
Thanks for the insight, Mark. I hadn’t thought of that.
I really like the metaphor of Mars and the mistaken interpretations of its features for the pomegranate, which reverses the usual comparison, here big for small, rather than small for big, and suggests our own “smallness” as well as the world as fruit, to be savored.
Thanks, David. I like the way you put that.
Being such ancient, mysterious globes, one could read all manner of magical properties into their being. Yours is very effective.
Thanks. I wasn’t thinking about the pomegranate’s magical and mythical associations when I wrote this but as I’ve read others’ poems more of those keep coming up. Amazing the associations one finds in such a fascinating fruit.
I like the flight of imagination that you link to physical features rather than to myth and mystery. The protoscientific imagination not yet tied down to cells and atoms, truths yet to be proven false still have free reign on the imaginal surface of this mystery fruit.
I’ve been fascinated lately with that nineteenth century scientific approach in which pure conjecture and wild speculation seemed more appropriate than it does now. Perhaps the influence of the Romantics?
nice done…..thanks for sharing
Glad you liked it, Wayne. Thanks for your comment.
I like that you are creating your own myth here. (like the world needs another pomegranate myth!!!) You have taken scientific observations, looked at the inaccuracies and misinterpretations and come up with a new expression of what might have been. Put it in an illustrated book and eventually it will become a myth. It’s always about the jeweled seeds, isn’t it? =D This poem is great in it’s conception. Thank you for sharing this, James.
Linda, thanks for your thoughts. An illustrated book? That could be interesting.
I like the idea of pomegranate people.I’m not a pomegranate person.
Nor am I, thank goodness. Life would be awful short, I think, but would we perceive it as such?
it is a fascinating subject, mars. I’ve been captivated by the images from the rover lately — out of context, they could be anything from slugs to tattoos. we really do bend and twist reality to fit our own perceptions.
wonderful poem, btw. I love the idea of pomegranate people. (more perception — aren’t martians supposed to be green?) š
Thanks, angie. The Mars images have been a source of fascination for me ever since the Viking days and they just get more and more fascinating.
I think Martians would be better off red or brown so they could blend in to hunt the other Martians š
Amazing how both you and Angie thought of planets…great minds and all that!
This was all so very good, but the last stanza was so poignant – just like us earthlings, huh…
Thanks, Cynthia. I’ve had Mars on my mind so I guess I just saw what was already there. That’s what made me think of Lowell and Schiaparelli.
“their doomed world sure to be destroyed
for the jeweled seeds inside”
someone was planning a colony on Mars?
I feel sad for the tiny pomegranate people…
I don’t think anyone was planning one. They just thought they were seeing evidence of a civilization that was already there.
Incredibly fine read. Mars is full of mystery, even now. Poor little people. š
Thanks, Tumblewords. Glad you liked it.
[…] It is the subject of a few of my poems, one published earlier this year at qarrtsiluni and another here at Coyote Mercury. I’m even writing a novel (slowly, too slowly) set on Mars, that world from which all the […]