Thank you to everyone who joined us for this session!
Our text was the poem “Ode to a Pair of Scissors” by Pablo Neruda, posted below.
Our prompt was: “Write an ode to something common.”
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Please join us for our next session Wednesday, October 7th at 12pm EDT, with more times listed on our Live Virtual Group Sessions page.
"Ode to a Pair of Scissors" by Pablo Neruda Prodigious scissors (looking like birds, or fish), you are as polished as a knight’s shining armor. Two long and treacherous knives crossed and bound together for all time, two tiny rivers joined: thus was born a creature for cutting, a fish that swims among billowing linens, a bird that flies through barbershops. Scissors that smell of my seamstress aunt’s hands when their vacant metal eye spied on our cramped childhood, tattling to the neighbors about our thefts of plums and kisses. There, in the house, nestled in their corner, the scissors crossed our lives, and oh so many lengths of fabric that they cut and kept on cutting: for newlyweds and the dead, for newborns and hospital wards. They cut and kept on cutting, also the peasant’s hair as tough as a plant that clings to rock, and flags soon stained and scorched by blood and flame, and vine stalks in winter, and the cord of voices on the telephone. A long-lost pair of scissors cut your mother’s thread from your navel and handed you for all time your separate existence. Another pair, not necessarily somber, will one day cut the suit you wear to your grave. Scissors have gone everywhere, they’ve explored the world snipping off pieces of happiness and sadness indifferently. Everything has been material for scissors to shape: the tailor’s giant scissors, as lovely as schooners, and very small ones for trimming nails in the shape of the waning moon, and the surgeon’s slender submarine scissors that cut the complications and the knot that should not have grown inside you. Now, I’ll cut this ode short with the scissors of good sense, so that it won’t be too long or too short, so that it will fit in your pocket smoothed and folded like a pair of scissors. Pablo Neruda Ode to Common Things New York: Bullfinch Press: 1994 Translator Ken Krabbenhoft