'As Life Was Five' by Jimmy Santiago Baca
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Portate bien,
behave yourself you always said to me.
I behaved myself
when others were warm in winter
and I stood out in the cold.
I behaved myself when others had full plates
and I stared at them hungrily,
never speaking out of turn,
existing in a shell of good white behavior
with my heart a wet-feathered
bird growing but never able to crack out of the shell.
Behaving like a good boy,
my behavior shattered
by outsiders who came
to my village one day
insulting my grandpa because he couldn't speak
English
English-
the invader's sword
the oppressor's language-
that hurled me into profound despair
that day Grandpa and I walked into the farm office
for a loan and this man didn't give my grandpa
an application because he was stupid, he said,
because he was ignorant and inferior,
and that moment
cut me in two torturous pieces
screaming my grandpa was a lovely man
that this government farm office clerk was a rude beast-
and I saw my grandpa's eyes go dark
with wound-hurts, regret, remorse
that his grandchild would witness
him humiliated
and the apricot tree in his soul
was buried
was cut down
using English language as an ax,
and he hung from that dead tree
like a noosed-up Mexican
racist vigilante strung up ten years earlier
for no other reason than that he was different,
than that they didn't understand
his sacred soul, his loving heart,
his prayers and his songs,
Your words, Portate bien,
resonate in me,
and I obey in my integrity, my kindness, my courage,
as I am born again in the suffering of my people,
in our freedom, our beauty, our dual-faced,
dual-cultured, two-songed soul
and two-hearted
ancient culture,
me porto bien, Grandpa,
your memory
leafing my heart
like sweetly fragrant sage.
But the scene of my grandpa in that room,
what came out of his soul
and what soared from his veins,
tidal-waving in my heart,
helped make me into a poet
singing a song that endures and feeds
to make my fledgling heart
an eagle,
that makes my heavy fingers
strum a lover's heart and
create happiness in her sadness,
that makes the very ground in the prairie
soil to plant and feed the vision of so many of us
who just want to dance and love and fly
that makes us loyal to our hearts
and true to our souls!
It's the scene
that has never left me-
through all the sadness
the terrors
the sweet momentary joys
that have blossomed in me,
broken me, shattered my innocence
I've
never forgotten the room that day,
the way the light hazily filtered in the windows,
the strong dignified presence of my grandfather
in his sheepskin coat and field work boots,
that scene,
the way the boards creaked under his work boots,
haunted me
when my children were born at home
and my hands brought them into this world,
that scene was in my hands,
it echoed in my dreams, drummed in my blood,
cried in my silent heart,
was with me through hours of my life,
that man behind the counter,
his important government papers rattling in the breeze,
disdainful look on his face,
that scene, the door, the child I was,
my grandpa's hand on the doorknob, his eyes on me like a voice
in the wind
forgiving and hurtful and loving,
to this moment-
his eyes following me
where I swirl in a maddened dance
to free it from my bones,
like a broken-winged sparrow yearning for spring
fields,
let the scene go, having healed it in my soul,
having nurtured it in my heart, I sing its flight, out, go,
fly sweet bird!
But the scene that dusty day
with the drought-baked clay in my pants cuffs,
the sheep starving for feed
and my grandfather's hopes up
that the farm-aid man
would help us as he had other farmers-
that scene framed in my mind, ten years old
and having prayed at mass that morning,
begging God not to let our sheep die,
to perform a miracle for us
with a little help from the farm-aid man,
I knew entering that door,
seeing gringos come out smiling with signed
papers to buy feed,
that we too were going to survive the
drought;
the scene with its wooden floor,
my shoes scraping sand grains that had blown in,
the hot sun warming my face,
and me standing in a room later
by myself,
after the farm-aid man turned us down
and I know our sheep were going to die,
knew Grandfather's heart was going to die,
that moment
opened a wound in my heart
and in the wound the scene replays itself
a hundred times,
the grief, the hurt, the confusion
that day changed my life forever,
made me a man, made me understand
that because Grandfather couldn't speak
English,
his heart died that day,
and when I turned and walked out the door
onto Main Street again,
squinting my eyes at the whirling dust,
the world was never the same
because it was the first time
I had ever witnessed racism,
how it killed people's dreams, and during all of it
my grandfather said, Portate bien, mijo,
behave yourself, my son, Portate bien.
Submitted by Ian Segal
Editor 1 Interpretation
As Life Was Five: A Poetic Journey Through Childhood
As Life Was Five, a poem written by Jimmy Santiago Baca, is an evocative and poignant journey through the eyes of a child. In this 48-line poem, Baca navigates through the complexities of a troubled childhood, depicting the pain and struggles of growing up in a broken home. Baca's work is a finely crafted masterpiece that captures the essence of childhood innocence, and the harsh realities that come with growing up.
Overview of the Poem
As Life Was Five is structured in five stanzas, with each stanza representing a different stage in the narrator's childhood. The poem begins with the narrator's birth and ends with his adolescence. The title of the poem is a nod to the fact that the narrator's memories of his childhood are filtered through the lens of a five-year-old.
The poem is written in free verse, with no discernible rhyme scheme. However, the use of repetition and vivid imagery imbues the poem with a musical quality that is both hypnotic and engaging. Baca's use of imagery is particularly striking, as he uses it to evoke the harsh realities of his childhood.
Analysis of the Poem
The first stanza of the poem is a vivid description of the narrator's birth. Baca paints a picture of a mother who is struggling to give birth, and a father who is absent. The use of repetition in the first line, "My mother screamed into my father's ear, my mother screamed into my father's ear," creates a sense of urgency and desperation. It is as if the mother is begging for help, but her cries fall on deaf ears.
The second stanza is a reflection on the narrator's infancy. Baca uses imagery to depict a life of poverty and neglect. The line, "I slept on a bed of nails, my mother's tears the only blanket," is particularly powerful. It is a stark reminder of the harsh realities of poverty, and the toll it takes on families.
The third stanza is a transition from infancy to childhood. Baca uses the image of a broken home to illustrate the emotional turmoil experienced by the narrator. The line, "I learned to dodge the shrapnel of broken dishes," is a powerful metaphor for the emotional scars left by a broken home.
The fourth stanza is a reflection on the narrator's early childhood. Baca uses repetition to emphasize the monotony of the narrator's life. The line, "Every day was the same, every day was the same," creates a sense of boredom and frustration.
The final stanza is a reflection on the narrator's adolescence. Baca uses the image of a prison to illustrate the emotional imprisonment experienced by the narrator. The line, "I was locked in a cell of my own making," is a powerful metaphor for the emotional scars left by a troubled childhood.
Interpretation of the Poem
As Life Was Five is a powerful poem that speaks to the human experience of growing up in a broken home. Baca's use of vivid imagery and repetition creates a sense of emotional intensity that is both moving and haunting.
At its core, the poem is a reflection on the emotional scars left by a troubled childhood. The image of a broken home is used to illustrate the emotional turmoil experienced by the narrator, and the toll it takes on his life. The monotony of life is used to emphasize the sense of boredom and frustration experienced by the narrator.
The image of a prison is used to illustrate the emotional imprisonment experienced by the narrator. The sense of being locked in a cell of one's own making is a powerful metaphor for the emotional scars left by a troubled childhood.
Ultimately, As Life Was Five is a powerful reflection on the human experience of growing up in a broken home. Baca's use of vivid imagery and repetition creates a sense of emotional intensity that is both moving and haunting. The poem speaks to the universal experience of pain and struggle, and the resilience of the human spirit.
Conclusion
In conclusion, As Life Was Five is a masterpiece of modern poetry. Baca's use of vivid imagery, repetition, and powerful metaphor creates a sense of emotional intensity that is both moving and haunting. The poem speaks to the universal experience of growing up in a broken home, and the resilience of the human spirit. It is a powerful reminder of the emotional scars left by childhood, and the need for compassion and understanding. As Life Was Five is a must-read for anyone who has experienced the pain and struggle of growing up in a broken home.
Editor 2 Analysis and Explanation
As Life Was Five: A Poem of Childhood Memories and Innocence
Jimmy Santiago Baca’s poem “As Life Was Five” is a beautiful and poignant reflection on the innocence and wonder of childhood. Through vivid imagery and sensory details, Baca transports the reader back to a time when life was simple and carefree, and the world was full of magic and possibility.
The poem begins with the speaker reminiscing about a time when he was five years old, and the world was “a place of wonder and surprise.” He describes how he would spend his days exploring the world around him, marveling at the beauty of nature and the mysteries of the universe. He would watch the clouds drift by, imagining that they were “great white whales” swimming through the sky, and he would chase after butterflies, trying to catch them in his hands.
Baca’s use of sensory details is particularly effective in conveying the sense of wonder and enchantment that the speaker feels. He describes the “sweet smell of grass” and the “taste of wild strawberries,” and he evokes the sound of the wind rustling through the trees and the sight of the sun setting over the mountains. Through these sensory details, the reader can almost feel the warmth of the sun on their skin and the cool breeze in their hair, and they can imagine the taste of the ripe strawberries and the smell of the fresh grass.
As the poem progresses, the speaker reflects on the people who were important to him during this time in his life. He remembers his mother, who would sing to him as she rocked him to sleep, and his grandmother, who would tell him stories about the old country. He also remembers his father, who would take him fishing and teach him about the natural world. These memories are infused with a sense of love and warmth, and they highlight the importance of family and community in shaping a child’s worldview.
However, the poem also acknowledges the darker aspects of life, even in childhood. The speaker remembers how he would sometimes wake up in the middle of the night, afraid of the dark and the unknown. He describes how he would lie in bed, listening to the sounds of the night, and how he would imagine that there were monsters lurking in the shadows. This sense of fear and uncertainty is a reminder that even in the midst of innocence and wonder, there is always a sense of vulnerability and fragility.
Despite these moments of fear and uncertainty, the poem ultimately celebrates the joy and beauty of childhood. The speaker describes how he would run through the fields, feeling the wind in his hair and the sun on his face, and how he would dance in the rain, feeling the drops on his skin and the rhythm in his bones. He remembers how he would lie on his back and watch the stars, feeling small and insignificant in the vastness of the universe, but also feeling connected to something greater than himself.
In the final stanza of the poem, the speaker reflects on how these childhood memories have stayed with him throughout his life. He acknowledges that the world has changed, and that he has experienced pain and loss along the way, but he also recognizes that the sense of wonder and possibility that he felt as a child is still present within him. He writes:
“And though I’ve grown and life has changed, The wonder of that time remains, A light that shines within my heart, A memory that still sustains.”
This final stanza is a powerful reminder that even as we grow older and face the challenges and complexities of life, there is still a part of us that remains innocent and hopeful. The memories of our childhood can serve as a source of strength and inspiration, reminding us of the beauty and magic that exists in the world.
In conclusion, “As Life Was Five” is a beautiful and evocative poem that celebrates the innocence and wonder of childhood. Through vivid imagery and sensory details, Jimmy Santiago Baca transports the reader back to a time when life was simple and carefree, and the world was full of magic and possibility. The poem is a powerful reminder that even as we grow older and face the challenges of life, there is still a part of us that remains innocent and hopeful, and that the memories of our childhood can serve as a source of strength and inspiration.
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