The Pear in Poetry

"Appreciating poetry is probably like appreciating anything else. It means having the generosity to let a thing be what it is, the patience to know it, a sense of the mystery in all living things, and a joy in new experience.”

-M.C. Richards

I figured it was time to return back to something more abstract than the invigorating science of fermentation. I mostly skimmed the surface in my post on the pear as a symbol, so it seemed appropriate to share some word art that captures how this fruit has penetrated our culture and the way we think about the world. 

Here are a few of my favorite poems I came across, forwarded to me by professors and friends. :

Study of Two Pears by Wallace Stevens

1

Opusculum paedagogum.

The pears are not viols,

Nudes or bottles.

They resemble nothing else.

I thought I'd be humorous and start off with one that speaks of pears as meaningless, plain ol' fruit- none of this abstract nonsense comparing it genitals or instruments. I appreciate the break from overly-intellectual thinking every so often and allowing things and people to just be as they are.  

~~~

The Groundfall Pear by Jane Hirschfield

It is the one he chooses,

Yellow, plump, a little bruised

On one side from falling.

That place he takes first.

By far my favorite, I see two different ways of interpreting this short poem. To me, it could either be very sensual and romantic, finding beauty within imperfection... on the other hand, it could even be considered predatory, going after one's most vulnerable spot.    

~~~

Pears by John Lee Clark

The sun's finger and thumb 

will rub those stems

without kindling them,

choosing to caress

their plump bodies warm.

My pears will not melt

as would scented candles

lit in the aging twilight,

but they will still shine

my kind of light.

Then I will know

how to bite into pears

in the kindest way 

and how to accept

their sweet forgiveness.

~~~

Pears by Linda Pastan

Some say
it was a pear
Eve ate.
Why else the shape
of the womb,
or of the cello
Whose single song is grief
for the parent tree?
Why else the fruit itself
tawny and sweet
which your lover
over breakfast
lets go your pear-
shaped breast
to reach for?

~~~

The Pear by Ruth Stone

There hangs this bellied pear, let no rake doubt,

Meat for the tongue and febrile to the skin,

Wasting for the mildew and the rot,

A tallow rump slow rounded, a pelt thin

And for the quickest bite; so, orchard bred,

Heaviest downward from the shaking stem.

Whose fingers curve around the ripened head

Lust to split so fine a diadem.

There is the picker, stretches for the knife,

There are the ravening who claw the fruit,

More, those adjuring wax that lasts a life,

And foxes, freak for cunning, after loot.

For that sweet suck the hornet whines his wits,

But husbandman will dry her for the pits.

Resources:

1) Study of Two Pears by Wallace Stevens
2) The Groundfall Pear by Jane Hirschfield
3) Pears by John Lee Clark
4) Pears by Linda Pastan
5) The Pear by Ruth Stone