“Snap-beans in a Wooden Bowl” published at Spillwords Press

On By Mike U.In Poetry

I’m excited to announce my poem “Snap-beans in a Wooden Bowl” has been published at Spillwords Press. Sincere thanks to Dagmara K. and her team for publishing this piece. I’m truly grateful for this opportunity. I hope you all enjoy it.

“Snap-beans in a Wooden Bowl”
(c) 2024 by Michael L. Utley

“snap-beans
in a wooden bowl
and tears
on her cheeks
my mother’s sorrow
exorcised by
the rite of
working hands
the ritual of
silent contemplation
as evening sun
gilded her world
in holy ephemera
her safe place
ensconced
in her own
sacred light
her garden
her universe…”

You can read the rest of my poem by clicking this link. And once you’re there, take some time to check out the work of many other talented writers at Spillwords Press, where you’ll find a treasure trove of good writing.

39 thoughts on ““Snap-beans in a Wooden Bowl” published at Spillwords Press”

  7. The fact that there’s an image of beans in a wooden bowl makes the poem even more powerful. I love this one, Mike! What a poignant piece painted with sadness, reflection, and despair, yet strength, too!

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    1. Thank you, trE. Dagmara (Spillwords‘ Editor) chose a really good image for this poem, for sure. The garden was my mom’s safe place, and I can still see her there in my mind after all these years. I like to think she’s still gardening now, only in a much better place. 😊

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  10. This poem gave me the chills, Mike, those last lines like a slice to the throat. So powerful, so desperately sad. And made more so by the contrasts – the sublime imagery and beautiful vision of your mother snapping beans, her garden, the cats, the sunshine, and the love between you. This makes my heart ache, my friend. Stunning as always. And congrats on the publication.

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    1. Many thanks, Diana. This one was difficult for me to write. It’s hard to see your mom trying to smile through tears, you know? Especially as a little kid who feels powerless to fix everything for her even though I tried my best. Our farm life was far from Rockwellian, but those memories of her in her garden as the sun settled on the summer horizon are the memories I want to hold on to, those gilded snapshots of my mom when she was at peace. I appreciate your kind support, my friend. Truly grateful for you. 😊

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  11. A beautiful poem, Mike, and a wonderful tribute to your mom. She was a strong and faithful woman surviving domestic violence. The everyday chores (and you) gave her some peace and purpose and the Lord provided the her strength to endure.
    I would have loved to meet her. 💕

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    1. Thanks, Peggy. She endured so much, and still always had a smile for everyone. She deserved so much better in life, but she tried to hold onto the positivity throughout the pain. Thank goodness she had her garden. She was safe there. 😊

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  13. Congratulations, Mike, for this heart-rendering publication. Your words evoke memories of my mother shelling peas. The gravity of your sensitivity and compassion for your mother’s inability to free either of you from a revolving cycle of abuse is heartbreaking. It also is a story that needs to be told; words have power, and power changes lives. I applaud your courage and thank you for sharing your intimate moments with us because I find hope and strength in the human spirit that lives within you and your mother—a testament to great love.

    “where her spirit lived
    safe in cool moist soil
    a fertile loam
    a secret energy
    regenerating her
    scarred soul daily
    only to be
    shattered nightly”

    I feel your words like sand spurs stinging my bare feet. They grasp my heart and hold it until the end of this bittersweet acknowledgment of surrender, a moment of love shared between a mother and her son.

    Each time I read your work, I feel blessed and liken it to a special gift. I am so grateful that SpillWords and Dagmara place your work on their pages. Thank you, Mike, for sharing yourself with us and for exposing the kind of inner beauty and raw benevolence with such rich and beautiful symbolism and humanism.

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    1. Thank you, Joni. My mom surrounded herself with life in that garden. I think she drew strength from watching things grow, and from harvesting the fruits of her labor. It gave her a sense of purpose in a tumultuous domestic situation, a quiet place to reflect and recover her strength. I like to think she’s in a much better garden now, filled with all the old farm dogs and cats and plenty of blue skies and sunshine, and no more fear.

      I appreciate you, my friend. I hope you’re doing well. Thanks as always for your wonderful kindness. 😊

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      1. You are so welcome dearest Mike. Your piece was such a difficult yet rewarding piece to read and I could relate in so many ways. I use to peel field peas with my mom on days she was not drunk and those were good days. I believe your mother is in a better place. She is likely surrounded by her animals and many more and happy. She sounds like an amazing woman who did the best she could and I know she loved you very much. I loved how you talked about her feet in the soil. Thank you for sharing your heart with us as it is always such a tremendous gift for those of us who struggled with domestic abuse growing up. We are not alone. Love you my friend. 🥰

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  16. Congratulations on the publication, Mike! I got teary-eyed halfway through; this is a phenomenal poem and a powerful tribute to your mother’s resilience. It must have taken immense courage to write. 🌸

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    1. Thank you, Aaysid. Yep, this one brought back a lot of memories. I can still see my mom out there in the garden where she felt at peace. She deserved so much better, but at least she had her garden. In all of her pain, she was able to foster life in that soil, and I know it was rewarding for her on many levels.

      Thanks so much for your kindness, my friend. I appreciate you. 😊

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