A Portrait of Melancholia

We may not truly know the hearts we are born of though inherantly we carry who they were inside us. Both the good and ill traits.

A Portrait of Melancholia 

By

Carlos Lorenzo Estrada 

“But that afternoon he asked himself, with his infinite capacity for illusion, if such pitiless indifference might not be a subterfuge for hiding the torments of love.”

― Gabriel García Márquez

I knew her before love

She was painted sorrow in diffident smile

Disenfranchised of amorous conceit 

An aphorism of solitude's auspicious nostalgia 

In the gelidness of hollow soul.

In youthful longing's intent before an empty fountain 

"Give me eternity, and in return I pledge apathy"

A thousand hearts broken, a thousand loves lost

In a ship of foreboding misery on a sea of troubled waters 

Beauty's lonesome endeavor is deepest price paid

We are mystery to one another

Father to son and mother to daughter 

through inherent qualities we come to know each other

Not all are born under the guise of love, but the need to be

I will paint you a picture of her; before love

A vision harsh and cruel yet truthful in tribute 

I did not know her, but knew of her

Mother; how can I forget 

In this sincere portrait...

Author's Note

Thank you for reading this work. Feel free to comment on or leave your thoughts. CLE

Reviews

[emmajoy]

'I knew her before love.. ' ' She was painted sorrow in diffident smile '

'Have wondered why people mock melancholia as if it's a flaw. Depression is understood because is more the norm. To literally suffer the slings and arrows of living within walls ice-cold and either silent or bedlam is.. a cloak one never sheds. There are more melancholy people these days than have been in the recent past, say statisticians - still counting. What you have written is a canvas electric.. it shocks. Truly shocks. Your words are.. preciously tragic.

(Marquez: 'One Hundred Years of Solitude' ?)

[Carlos Lorenzo Estrada]

This is an absolutely beautiful response and truly thoughtful as well to this piece. It defines exactly the purpose of this poem and why it has come to exist. And to answer your quote on Marquez; yes. Thank you Emmajoy for your kind words on this poem.

[emmajoy]

True as felt.

[David Plantinga]

For the depressed, smiling can be propitiatory and preemptive. This aspect is captured well by "painted sorrow in diffident smile." The parents are said to be mysteries to the children, but no mention is made of children being mysteries to the parents. Maybe elders comprehend more than the young. The narrator also professes to "know of" the mother and be reminded by the daughter. From this I infer the narrator and the mother are about the same age and acquainted from before, and she is the one described in the first line, someone the narrator "knew" but didn't "know".

[Carlos Lorenzo Estrada]

Thank you David for sharing your thoughts with me on this older poem of mine. This was actually a portrait of my mother whom I had a very contentious relationship with. The first line is meant to reference that before I had ever experienced the emotion of love and all that comes with it I knew in a matriarchal sense of it through my mother. Later in life understanding the trials and tribulations of love and all it encompasses I grew to understand the distance between us and the illusions that kept us apart in the walls we made. My mom was not the most loving mother unfortunately. She married young and when she divorced a few years later she took to her new found freedom with abandon rather than motherhood. I often equate her callous and selfishness to the Steinbeck character of the mother Cathy Ames in East of Eden. Though I do admit my perspective may be biased compared to her's. She was filled with vanity sitting by a mirror preparing her makeup for her evening trips to the nightclubs she frequented. I feel she thought her beauty would last forever. Only later in life when I myself began to experience the complexity of love did I come to know her better. In much of the inherent qualities I had myself of her. She was a mystery to me until she became known through the mirror of myself. I knew who she was but not why? It is a profound mystery that haunts me to this day. Because perhaps in some intuitive way I do know the answer but refuse to accept it because it defines me. There will always be certain mysteries we have about those we love. Because deep down inside we may not really want to know the truth. Out of my two brothers I am the one that looks the most like her. And I am the one most like her. This poem is a portrait of a mirror that reflects a generation of pernicious inherent vice passed from mother to son and the residual melancholia left behind from its truth revealed. It is a cycle most difficult to break. Thank you for taking the time to share your thoughts and also this conversation with me.

[Diane Gaffney]

Thank you Carlos for sharing your art. As one who has dealt with the ebbs and flows of depression from my young life til now, I appreciate your powerful words. It is truly sad that there is a stigma attached to depression...and misunderstanding of how it is not the same as sadness. There is a deepness about your poem that catches in my very soul. Keep writing and sharing.

[Carlos Lorenzo Estrada]

Thank you Diane for commenting on this piece. Yo< are absolutely right about depression. It's an inherent trait I have from my mother and her side of the family. Having dealt with manic depression all my life has not been easy. And I had never really been close with my mother at all. I only know her through these things I have inherited from her. Thank you so much again for your comment.

[Betty Hermelee]

A heartfelt portrait of one’s melancholy, so sad that many suffer from this. Your words are so real and true….” On a sea of troubled waters” I can imagine the portrait…. but I believe one can move on… and find contentment.. you certainly painted a hues of what was before love.
Masterful…
Best
B.

[Carlos Lorenzo Estrada]

Thank you B for the kind words. I so appreciate it especially coming from one who paints beautiful poetry with with words. And whose art I admire.

[Betty Hermelee]

You’re very welcome dear friend!

[Víctor S]

I love the images, the picturing of happenstances and "ways of being" is so vivid and compelling. "Beauty's lonesome endeavor is deepest price paid" such a great construction. I visualize your work as a greek temple, elements harmonically convergin to buils a beautifull wholeness. Thanks for this piece of art.

[Carlos Lorenzo Estrada]

Thank you Victor for your insightful thoughts on this piece. I am truly appreciative and moved by your kind words. I feel wholeheartedly that cultural roots permeate and define a writer's soul and passion for their art. The remnants of those that came before us are no less whispered between the words of inspiration. I always strive to be true to these enduring qualities. For words are our paint and the pen our brush, and a blank page a canvas that can become anything we choose it to be. So always be true to your art for doing so you honor those that came before you. Thank you again my friend.

[Dave Brown]

I am always overwhelmed by your submissions
They, and the quality of language you use in them, are nothing less than extremely impressive and this piece is no exception
Do you offer classes?

[Carlos Lorenzo Estrada]

Thank you Dave you are much to kind my friend. As a fan of your art I appreciate it. I once mentioned to a teacher who stated I should consider becoming an educator that it just isn't in my heart to do so. I lack patience which is needed and also care to much. I would take the failure of a student much too personal. I have such an admiration for the teaching profession because without it there would be no art. And since words to me inspire hope dreams would simply remain illusions, instead of possibilities. Besides I would much rather learn from you, because you can weave a tale with humor and humanity that strives to bring out the best of us. That is a talent that can capture the attention of an auditorium of students. Thank you again my friend.

[John Prophet]

The depth and richness of this write is amazing.

[Carlos Lorenzo Estrada]

Thank you JP for the comment on this poem. I'm a bit torn over this piece. It can be construed as very spiteful, raw, and angry with emotion. Accusatory in indictment. But its hidden message was to be self reflective on acquired hereditary traits. There are times we seldom control what both the mind and heart want to say. In its attempt at catharsis, or the futility of it. Thank you again my friend.

[FaeryQueen]

these hold such deep meanings to me, thank you for sharing

:

I knew her before love

"Give me eternity, and in return I pledge apathy"

We are mystery to one another
Father to son and mother to daughter

[Carlos Lorenzo Estrada]

Thank you for the kind words on this poem. There are certain phrases that can truly stand on their own in this piece and resonate with others in their own way. That is one of the beautiful qualities of writing and poetry in particular. "We are mystery to one another" is a line to me that really is meaningful to aptly describe almost all relationships. We like to believe we know those that we truly love, but do we really? Thank you so much for reading and sharing your thoughts on this poem. I really appreciate it.

[FaeryQueen]

you've written it so beautifully too

[Ruth]

Quite the title for a wonderfully, intense poem Carlos...sometimes the wound is so deeply embedded, it takes our lifetime/s to address it but when we reflect, we can see the strength gained as well from such an ache - true, it takes the smiles out of life at times but one learns to venture on and become themselves, maybe adapt, I would say - it's a long process to heal or even recognise such an infliction...well written piece, the use of wording is spectacular :)

[Carlos Lorenzo Estrada]

Thank you Ruth for your thoughts on this poem. Writing this was truly a cathartic experience to say the least. Often in our youth we state implicitly we will never become like our parents never understanding at the time we inherit traits from them that will always be a part of us. Some are visible while some are not. It is through these things we better understand and know our parents. I have come to know the woman who I never really truly knew but only through these inherent traits. They are very self destructive and selfish in attitude and behavior. They have also made relationships very difficult to build. Out of all three of her sons I am the one that most looks like her. She also had difficulty with depression which is something I too suffer from. The things we can not control we must learn to understand and live with. They are just small pieces of the whole person. The words of this piece alludes to a portrait that I believe reflects me as much as it does her. Because I carry the pieces of her in this melancholia that haunts me in the mirrors of my mind. Thank you again I truly appreciate it.

[Ruth]

I understand...we can break the chain somewhat though...by recognising traits we can change them ti some degree...not easy. I do understand completely...

[Carlos Lorenzo Estrada]

To an extent yes we can by recognizing the issues we have or are born with. We may not break them but can learn to live with them. Therapy, medication, or outlets can help to a point. They are by no means cure all but they help to a point. Writing by far has probably helped me more then the others. It helps my manic state of mind Writing these things that keep me at times from focusing. Unfortunately manic depressive is incurable with many inheriting this from a parent. But I have learned to live with this for the most part. Thank you again for the kind words.

[barleygirl]

Many people rib me for my use of large complex words, but you have me beat, hands down, in this arena! The first half of your poem is hard to read, even for a word fanatic like myself. It helps me understand how others feel when they're reading my most heavily-weighted-down stuff. The second half of your poem, however, lightens up. It's as if you start out in your head (cerebral, where things are complicated & over-thought) and as this poem goes along, you gradually write more & more from the heart, which is a more direct & simple & connective way to write (((HUGS)))

[Carlos Lorenzo Estrada]

I must confess in my many manic states at times there is a war between mind and heart which leaves my own tongue confused and the rest of me wanting to go back to sleep. If I have DID or multiple personalities roaming around my skull just let them know I hate them all. They don't let me sleep much and leave me just as confused as my poetry. But if I had to guess, and this is just me the main identity, I think, I would deduce this poem reflects a person with major mommy issues. One who may have been raised by someone that wished they didn't have responsibility of motherhood and could go out and party with her girlfriends every night after work during the late 70s and much of the 80s. Perhaps the mother was vain and frigid and paraded around with multiple men. Her beauty being more important than raising a kid. I would also suspect the child in his older age seeing much of his mother's faults in himself. Certain inherent traits he reviles that are the only thing he knows of her unfortunately. Come to think of it I am reminded of the great Steinbeck novel East of Eden where the son comes to realize the facts of his birth mother being a prostitute. Now I'm not a psychologist but the saddest part may be that he is more like his mother than he knows and that it may be reflected in the image he sees in the mirror staring back at him. I think he only knows her by the traits he inherited from her which is unfortunate especially if they are not very good traits to have. This poem is all over the place admittedly so and maybe intentionally. Because I personally think maybe he's describing himself now more than her. Maybe it's not an indictment of her but more a realization of self. That we are born of things inherent and despite not wanting to be anything like our parents we become so at no fault of our own. Sins of the father, or in this case mother. I was hoping this would be less ambiguous a write because it is a one sided interpretation. The reader gets only one perspective and not the other side of the story. Which even to me as the writer isn't really fair. In the end life never is. And what is left are the remnants of this melancholia. So you are absolutely correct about this piece. It over analyzes complicating its theme than tries to humanize being overly emotional. Yet some where in between is the truth and heart of the matter. Thank you Margie for taking the time to read this poem. I so appreciate your honest assessment of it. Because it is a mess but I think it's meant to be for the reasons mentioned above.

[barleygirl]

Thank you for an uncommon share! Always a gift & an honor (((HUGS)))