“The Pig Farm” dVerse Meeting the Bar – Place

This farm I call a pit,
pot-bellied and foul, every
day a feast and every
morning a chore.

Mother Mary weeps the walls
while Joseph hears their
muddy calls.

This place: a temporary
secluded sanctuary where
plumbing is a commodity,
an unnoticed rarity.

Jesus sits on a table carved
from mahogany, a chipped
china plate hangs on a nail;
it reads “Welcome to Las Vegas”.

Mother Mary weeps the walls
while Joseph hears their
Wednesday wails.

I sit in introspection,
a reflection crisscrossed
with sullen compromise;
smoking yet another cigarette,
waiting for your call.


66 responses to ““The Pig Farm” dVerse Meeting the Bar – Place

  1. very cool description of the place itself and the things around but also in the last stanza where you show us a bit of your emotions.. thanks for hosting…really enjoying the prompt

  2. Love this, Pamela… the repitition works well to emphasize your waiting.

  3. Pamela, this is so vivid and gritty. Enjoyed.

  4. What a great contrast to your entry at the bar. And really that “welcome to las Vegas” is really a good line that gives great images for me.

  5. a reflection crisscrossed
    with sullen compromise….what cool lines of description for the narrator…on some level a farm would be a cool place…a simpler life…but its a lot of work too….grew up by the farms and spent time there….and like the refrain of joseph and mary….very cool pamela…

    • I lived on this farm for about 3 weeks while my husband was in the states on business and it was quite different for me. On Wednesday they took the pigs to slaughter and their cries were heartbreaking to say the least. Thanks for having me at the bar.

  6. Love how you weave so many themes–heavenly and earthy–into this. So well done, of course!

    • Thanks again for inviting me,, Victoria. I wasn’t sure what to write about, then I remembered this particular part of Mexico, which I have never written about.

  7. I love the transferred epithet of “pot-bellied”, and the repetition and rhythm were compelling.

  8. i love how you captured the nothingness home can be with out your faith or your love…great great poem….thank you, my favorite today.

  9. Good to meet you Pamela. I will take a peep in your previous work tomorrow.
    This is not such a glam place then, as you warned me on the Dverse site.
    Compelling write.

  10. Wow, this was great! Loved the juxtaposition of the sacred and profane imagery. A gem!

  11. Glenn Buttkus

    Loved the internal rhymes, without restraints, and what an existential romp, hopscotching over religiosity & addictions like Kerouac stone sober, like Bukowski sans epithets; a fine read; thanks.

  12. Great description, of a lonely place, yet it feels alive with the noise of pigs, smells and drudgery of hard work, I loved the irony of a chipped plate on the wall reading welcome to Las Vegas and Jesus sitting at the table, and that cigarette while waiting…conveys the whole mood of a place, daily life and the people.

  13. I can picture this so well….I love how the first strong stanza stands alone..and each one thereafter reinforces it 😉

  14. Such a lovely portrayal of context and feeling, Pamela. I hope I’m inspired to write something to your prompt.

  15. I hope you do, Irene. I love your writing and have for years now. It has been a few for us together. Get to writing, girl.

  16. Thanks for the prompt, and for sharing such a fine poem. I like the way the place is made to seem godforsaken, yet “Jesus sits on a table.” Very well done.

    • Nico, godforsaken as it seemed religion was deeply rooted in every moment of time in Oaxaca, it is here as well, but not as reliant. If that makes sense.

  17. I enjoyed this poem, the descriptions of what is around, leading to what is in, your contemplations.

    • Yes, it really felt this way. I was sitting waiting for my husband to call, I could no longer endure another Wednesday of the pig slaughter. Too heartbreaking for me.

  18. I love your play with walls and wails. You paint a vivid vignette here, Pamela and your prompt at the pub was inspiring. thank you.

  19. Jane, thank you for contributing your beautiful yet heartbreaking poem.

  20. Yes, your impatience in waiting shows through in that lighting of another cigarette…I could just see the boredom and the foot tapping… A very intriguing story here. And thanks for an interesting prompt today, Pamela.

    • Gayla, boredom really wasn’t what I was feeling, more a sense of being out of place with the whole. Pig farming was not something I was familiar with and it made me uneasy. Thanks for joining in and nice to meet you.

  21. I love this. And then the last line “waiting for your call” which just seems to move the piece in an unexpected direction, yet one completely congruous to the rest of the poem. An enjoyable read! ~Jason

  22. Thanks Jason, enjoy your life in my home, lol. (hint, hint, Brazil) I loved your poem tonight.

  23. We have in-laws in Moctezuma. They own a milpa, where they farm. The land provides much; the land demands equally.

  24. This has a very raw feeling to it and I loved that. I could see the images you described very clearly. Thank you for your insightful comment on my poem, it’s very nice to meet you!

  25. This place: a temporary
    secluded sanctuary where
    plumbing is a commodity,
    an unnoticed rarity.

    Going back to nature is a guarded decision. It may present difficulties, first, to understand and then to implement. Nicely Pam!


    • Hank, this family had money, but commodities like plumbing weren’t a concern and it was quite foreign to me. Thanks for the generous comment, my friend.

  26. Such a wonderful poem – the sacred and profane – really enjoyed reading and re-reading. Thanks too for the prompt – it was fun to think about what home means – K

  27. Just great. Really terrific. So vivid, musical and then there is this observer who takes us to a whole other place. Just great. k.

    • Karin, it was so completely different than what I was accustomed to. Honestly, it is not some place I would want to go back to. The lack of indoor plumbing was unsettling, not to mention the poor little pigs being taken off to slaughter. I was invited to watch a slaughter and obviously declined. Thanks for reading and commenting.

  28. I love this! The rhythms, the repetition, the unusual twist, the waiting… I think I’ve been on farms like that.

    • Thanks Marina, I wasn’t able to comment on your poem without having to signup to the site. I liked your poem and that photo was wonderful.

      • Sorry, yes I know, it was just because I was having/am still having computer/server problems. Seems to crash every 5 mins.

      • I really liked your poem and felt bad not being able to leave a comment for you. I hope you get the computer/server problems worked out. I know our carrier can be quite finicky also.

  29. Wonderful write. I could almost hear, see and smell the farm, and sense your not wanting to be there.

  30. I got this sense that, at any moment, the speaker was just going to get up and flee. Just because we live somewhere, it doesn’t make it home.

  31. There is a great sense of place here – and also of your feelings of displacement within it. Thanks for hosting at dVerse. I really enjoyed your prompt, even if my muse was a bit reluctant to play along.

  32. almost a lament… sad and beautifully done

  33. I was very taken with this poem. I read it over several times. The contrast between the pig farm and Christ; feasts and chores; sanctuary and the lack of plumbing; carved mahogany and chipped china; waiting for the call… and smoking.

    The imagery, the hues cast, the opposition, coupled with the movement of the lines, the flow made for very intriguing and involved reading.

    Very nice – I enjoyed it, obviously.

    • Thanks Randy. How very nice of you to say. Tell me, did you post a poem to the prompt? I don’t recall, but then I read quite a few poems, so I may have forgotten. The ‘ole brain isn’t what it once was, lol.

  34. Enjoyed all of the colorful details you shared about the pig farm. May not have been the best living accomodation, but the poem produced from the setting, with so many details that made the place come alive to the reader, was a definite positive result. I could not stand to hear those pigs cry either. Sorry you were disappointed that I did not participate Thursday. I truly had no ideas at all….or I would have. I also had a stressful day going, somewhat related to the poem I posted today, which didn’t help writers’ block.

  35. Thanks, Mary. I hated hearing the pigs cry and to watch them was horribly painful, it was as if they knew what was going on. Later someone told me they do know when they are being separated like that, they do in fact, sense their demise. Not sure if that is true, but it sure seemed so.

I appreciate all comments.

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