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Mango
Published: 2004-07-21 07:39:53 +0000 UTC; Views: 8770; Favourites: 224; Downloads: 100
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Description
She could eat a mango with her eyes closedHer fingers well acquainted with the fruit's soft hairs
Then peel it back slowly with a sharp paring knife
As I watched, intrigued by how the smooth grain
Of the kitchen table matched the hues of her arm.
But this was one time, when the soft summer night's
breath exhaled long into the kitchenette
That I found her head down, her eyes withdrawn
To a breeze tossed curtain above her.
And I noticed her stomach swelling as a ripening fruit.
And knowing quite well that a seed separated from the tree
At such a young age could fall into another garden
And be fruitful. And this she knew, for her rough tan legs
Still remembered the back scratching at her when
In her old country, men would climb up and into
The trees, selfishly tearing a fruit from its mother.
But only once later in life did I glimpse the ghost
A dull red that broke from my sister's finger when once
She peeled a mango with the knife coming towards her.
The blood smearing across the orange-green of the fruit.
She salted the meat found beneath the skin of the mango
With a salt that stings when it finds its way
Into a fresh cut. Then she looked me over, her eyes
The color and shape of a wrinkled almond. She said
"The mango. It's not quite ripe." Then ate in silence.
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Comments: 54
This is stunning and deft. I find myself imagining different backstories. Thank you for sharing it.
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I was just browsing when I came across this. It's so beautiful and reminds me of my mother because shes from a place full of mango trees
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kind of a relief to find something other than cheesy gothic love poems on this website. congratulations for finding beauty other in a sixteen-year-old dude's flippy hair. 
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*Smiles a little* That is lovely...but very sad to read. Not many poems make me feel that kind of emotion, but this one did.
I can't help but wonder, is this about a girl pregnant too early? It seems like many subtle details came together to make the overall theme of this poem, and when it said "The mango. It is not quite ripe." I thought, maybe, the idea of being torn open, skinned, losing innocence before one has had the chance to fully mature... though, maybe I am mistaken.
I love mangoes, they're my favorite fruit, and I think that this is also a new favorite poem of mine too.
If ever a poem deserved a DD, it is this one most certainly, no, this one deserves more than that.. enter it in a real contest, publish it somewhere real, that's what it deserves.
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Amazing poem, I just can't help but feel you've added much more to it...in fact, the more I read over the more I understand. Or maybe I'm just slow in the head? hmm..
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This is incredible poetry. You're very talented at manipulating and using words to create a sort of perfect image (only more with letters and less with colors, I guess) 
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I like the way you put in the subtle references. I'm Filipino-American, so I get what you're saying in this. Old thoughts and emotions sprung by something so familiar to the girl...it makes sense.
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I love this. The imagery is soft and warm. I was going to pick a favorite stanza, but I found I loved them all too much to single one out.
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Wow! This is one of the most intriguing pieces of poetry I've read in a while. Amazingly, though the nature of this poem is simplistic, it captures the ambiance of the scene so exquisitely. Specifically, what makes this poem truly brilliant is the manner in which you've intertwined an auto-biographical scene with the abstract ideas. Honestly, I wish I could get to that point with my writing.
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Gives alot to think about. The flow and show-not-tell aspects are very pleasing to read. I really enjoyed this.
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I don't really know what to say, but this made me feel so melancholy. This should be the definition of melancholy.
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wow... im no professional poet or anything, but this is nice.
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I like this. and mangos...too bad i'm allergic.
:/
lol
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Beautiful. I love the images in this, and the subtle violence they hint at. I read this one out loud to myself.
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This is beautiful.
Don't let anyone try and 'critique' this.. it's how you've written it and it's just perfect.
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the descriptions are so unique and this poem feels literally refreshing, like drinking an iced tea in the summer. Bravo!
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the imagery is beautiful
i found some parts a little confusing but overall i loved this very much
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Beautifully well written, I love the imagery and use of metaphors in this. Great job!
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This is so good, I wanna make a pie with it.
It's too good for Deviantart. Congratulations on writing something so brilliant
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That's absolutely gorgeous writing right there. I love how delicate yet powerful the images are, and the tone of the piece is just wonderful.
Congratulations on a very well-deserved DD!
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The Philippines are the first thing I think of when I see the word "mango" (lol) and I was surprised that Filipino-American heritage was referenced but now I see that it makes sense and turns the poem into something a little more intimate, for me anyway. I had felt the reminiscence of something but concluded to nothing until the author's bit.
But anyway I think I liked the second stanza the most, for me it came to me as a sigh, and for the whole poem I read it as a dream, or a memory of a smaller time.
I sound silly, I'm sorry. Done now.
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It's beautiful. I love the use of the mango throughout the piece, it adds a kind of tropical mystery to the whole thing. Super.
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Wow, amazing imagery! And I love the language and flow of this piece.
And cool, I'm Filipino-American!
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i could totally relate im filipino american
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A lot of subtlety there, but I think it makes the poem feel so much stronger.
I have to agree with PoeticWar on some points, however;
the "mango" metaphor did somewhat make me think of Filipino heritage, but I think you wanted the connection between the two a bit more apparent? Correct me if I'm wrong. (It doesn't take much away from the writing itself, though.)
The mood also tends to transition rather awkwardly, as if you wanted to go from sweet mangoes to the unripened fruit and had something in mind of what to put in between; but it seemed like you were unsure of your symbolizations.
A small expansion of the lines about the selfish men would have been even more wonderful, but I think it was also a fine idea to keep it short and sweet, to the point.
The narrative quality also felt a bit tentative.
But overall, this poem is provocative and reminiscent in its simplicity. I admire you for that.
I am but a humble observer trying to complete my thoughts,
and you don't have to pay attention to this.
Great work, and 'grats on the DD.
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I was intrigued by the description the DD had, and it is pretty apt how they described it.
a mature, conversational voice and subtle imagery to hint at the fuller story surrounding a delicate issue.
It's lovely and powerful what you wrote!
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Why don't I have anything profound to say about this? All I feel I can do is 
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As a ps: interesting that I read the N as being male. I didn't check your own gender, of course, and it isn't really relevant anyway -- but it does highlight my point about the undeveloped persona of the N and his/her relationship with the sister and the poem's events in general !
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Hi eyewish, congrats on the DD. This piece is on the right track for sure -- a pretty convincing narrative structure and tone. But there are, for me, some significant problems that you might like to address.
-- This still needs a fair bit of surface editing: a fair bit of redundancy, imprecision, familiar phrasing, and (less-so) some intrusion (selfishly), etc. This will probably all come together when the underlay is sorted out properly, though, and generally the clothes for the bones here are one of the more impressive aspects (primarily the tone).
-- The relationship between the narrator and the girl of the poem is vague, and open to misinterpretation. I suspect the narrator is too easily fitting the poem-observer/voyeur here, and we need to get more of a sense of him inside the poem. Otherwise you might as well narrate this from a third-person based around the girl (which I don't recommend, but only say to demonstrate that the N is undeveloped).
-- There's a somewhat unconvincing movement in the narrative which is thanks, I suspect, to the strain of keeping this within the poetic, as it were. This is most pronounced in the second stanza, which requires all these lines of quite stock imagery and scene-setting to get to the meat (as it were) of the statement -- the ripening fruit of her stomach. Stomach is too specific here -- it's not really the stomach at all, per se, and this is where the tone falters a little bit. But that's an editing concern up in the first bulletpoint. More important here is the way it is suddenly introduced. The manner of the pregnancy revelation is too clean, too easily poked into the poem's general forward-momentum.
-- Perhaps the most problematic thing, for me, is the metaphor configuration. The mango works well, initially, as a framing device, but when looked at more closely all this fruit business is a) extremely familiar as a fertility symbol and b) employed rather imprecisely. It may be simply that you're trying to do too much within the metaphor palette you've adopted -- what's that first strophe really doing, exactly? The sister is proficient at eating fruit; then her pregnancy looks a bit like swollen fruit; she knows that a seed fallen into another garden may yet flourish (well, this is a little imprecise again -- it wouldn't be a seed, it would be the fruit itself, after all); she knows this because men in the old country tear fruit from their 'mothers' (really? This seems a little over-poeticized in that, in fact, the men eating the fruit and perhaps scattering the seeds would probably not be responsible for much in the way of new growth, and she certainly wouldn't know about it in such a way as to pronounce her knowledge -- also a slight problem in the sheer masculinity of the image of these thieving men, as whoever would adopt this given-up child would probably not match up to this. That's only a problem here because you bleed the metaphor into reality by throwing in 'mothers', I suspect -- too obvious and it dissolves the account of the men climbing trees. God, long parenthetical...); then the ghost of the child (the loss, really, which is fine) is revealed in blood (suddenly outside the metaphor palette) as she cuts a mango and eats it, underripe. The underripeness of the mango is terrific -- that last line is great. But do you see where I'm coming from? If you tone down the fruit metaphors in the middle of the poem you'll end up with much less trouble when it comes to the mango framing device -- as it is, the pregnancy is fruit, the child is fruit, the memory is fruit, and all these things get eaten and cut up by the mother (which is a little bizarre). If you loosen the fastidiousness of the fruit metaphor you'll have more room to work in.
-- Finally there's the filipino-american heritage aspect you mention in your description. It simply isn't there in the poem, at least for me, and I suspect even for those more intimately aware of that heritage or themselves a part of it. For me that's not really a problem, but it might have been something you wanted to be more explicit.
Anyway, thanks for the read. I very much enjoyed considering your poem, which has some really exciting possibilities and is well on its way to being good. I hope some of these remarks are of use.
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Beautiful critique.
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Filipino? I felt like I was reading something written by someone right here at home in the Caribbean. It feels... familiar. From the flow, to the imagery to the deeper issues it skirts- it all feels like it's at the tip of my fingers.
Lord, I wish mango season comes quickly.
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That was great. Perfectly fitting metaphors. I love the story behind it. And that last line? Gorgeous.
Pinoy pride!
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This is why we have daily deviations to showcase talent that goes unnoticed. This is brilliant. Fantastic allegory on race and relations. Obviously close to home.
Awesome.
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I was amazed by the symbolism here
The writing is vaguely simple, and yet it's much deeper, a hundred times over in the meaning. I almost sensed the clues into Filipino heritage <3 Who else would know the mango in such a deep, thoughtful way?
And other small mentions.
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Hello. : )
I enjoyed this very much. You use imagery well, and the central metaphor is used well.
The last two stanzas, and the last line in particular, are strong. The second and third could use some revision. The second stanza contains a number of clichΓ©s (soft summer night, wind as breath, the explicit comparison to your sisterβs unborn child and the fruit) and some weaker language (βBut this was one time,β βbreeze tossed curtainβ
In the third stanza, βAnd this she knew, for her rough tan legs / Still remembered the back scratching at herβ didnβt make much sense to me. What back? Whose?
βGhostβ from the fourth stanza gave me the idea that the child died before it was born, when coupled with the last line (the mango being eaten before itβs ripe).
βWith a salt that stings when it finds its wayβ in the fifth stanza didnβt work for me. All the salts that I know of can sting. Iβd like to see this replaced with stronger images. I like the description of how the mango is eaten, and the implicit comparison within the last line (the mango and her child are both not ripe yet).
In the first stanza, βsharpβ is redundant. Paring knives are generally sharp. Other than that, I like the description of how she manages to eat the mango with her eyes closed; itβs just vivid enough to be interesting.
Iβd also like to see a more consistent timeline for the piece; as it is, it jumps around in time.
That said, I like the voice of the poem, and the images you chose drew me into the piece. You have the basis of a strong, beautiful poem here, and Iβd love to see this refined. I hope this helps with your revision.
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Wow. I love the idea behind this because I can empathise with it. I would say the theme is the loss of innocence at too young an age, and you carry it through to the very end astonishingly well. The care you take in decribing the character shows your love for her and, as a reader, I feel very endeared to you by this (always a good thing to draw in your readers). The main character seems so grown and motherly even from the start. This just inforces the theme for me. The most dramatic part was where you went from descibing the person so delecately to (we're just going to call it) the back scratching imagery. This imagery makes me as the reader feel very indignant like a great injustice has taken place. You do such a good job at getting your point across. Your metaphors and similes are without question among the best I have seen on deviant art. You really should write more.
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