Mother, One More Thing Poems by Carla Schwartz

Mother, One More Thing

Poems by Carla Schwartz

Copyright 2014 by Carla Schwartz

Turning Point Books

Cincinnati, OH 45254

Softbound,  79 pages,  no price

ISBN 9781625490728

Review by Zvi A. Sesling

Carla Schwartz like many a daughter thinks a lot about her departed mother. Unlike many daughters, however, she writes poetry about the woman who birthed her.  So, while this poetry book is about her mother, it is ultimately about herself. Whenever one writes about someone, it seems the choice of subject matter of each poem, the words and the descriptions reveal more about the author than the subject – though the subject is also bared in the process

November

The box descends

braced by planks

and strapped to hands,

square, thin, raw.

Pine, like all others like it,

except for the remains.

We commence the burial

with shovels full of sandy soil,

our final send-off to what now is just a corpse

the body whose womb I traversed,

who held me through the worst turns.

I held her, those last days

when, to rays streaming through the room,

to Death itself

my mother – joyous, rapt,

proposed the seeming impossible task:

Let’s go outside!      

There are also a number of poems dealing with sex – some maybe are about her mother, some about Ms. Schwartz, some are a bit more explicit than others, but whatever, her poems keep the reader interested and moving through the book. 

The final poem is the title poem and reveals, perhaps, the most of Ms. Schwartz sensitive nature as opposed to what might more carnal or more nostalgic writing:

Mother, One More Thing

A Wellfleet house with sloped ceilings and white walls,

pink light through the trees early morning.

Three large casements on two walls and skylight.

The ceiling follows the slope of the roof.

The casement on the north wall, raised.

Outside, inside our bedroom.

Copies of famous painting, sprinkled throughout

in subdued reds, browns, blacks, and whites.

The furnishings, simple, from the fifties,

with minor updates each decade.

Mother, you don’t know this, you haven’t been there.

One corner we never explored. The painting belong

to the owners. In good taste, but not yours.

Best of all, the pond. It has your name.

I slip in every morning for a swim.

Right after you come to me in dream. After I stretch.

After the subjugation resembling love.

What can be most interesting about these poems is that they are often written to throw the reader off – a word missing here or there, as in the last stanza above: “Right after you come to me in dream.”  Most writers would write “in a dream.”  But the effect here to stop the reader if only for an instant, if only to make you think and think again with what follows. There are also a plethora of commas to slow you down or to make you think they are not all necessary. A hidden trick?   Is it conscious and thoughtful?   There are a number of enigmas in her writing and it is up to the reader to decide on it.

And finally, there is a lot of soul bearing, which many poets seem to do, some not as effectively as Ms. Schwartz.

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Zvi A. Sesling

Reviewer, Boston Area Small Press and Poetry Scene

Author, King of the Jungle and Across Stones of Bad Dreams

Publisher, Muddy River Books

Editor, Muddy River Poetry Review

Editor, Bagel Bards Anthology