Poetry in Progress ~ construction zone

[PatCarrington]

always knew god was tetched,
what with armadillos, the moon,
and guenter rose.
he just flung a soul
into that baby,

giving us branches
our granpappy--
a new cry in winter
that soon wailed

into bullwhip rose,
god's guenter
under a confederate sky,
lashing shuffalongs in white fields.

brothers marched north.
brothers marched south.
they marched past guenter,
a shadow in caves,

blue ridge hidey-holes
miles from fields of unpicked clouds,

fields now waiting for sons,
sons waiting for papa's swinging arm.
texas took those sons,
and years later:

"horses rocked us toward that bless you place.
i bumped along on the bed
in chaw-splattered church-white.

i was hush like raw cotton,
unpicked in the sun.

i suppose other wagons came
just so he could bullwhip them aside."

old whip curls like a rattler's memory
in my grandma rose's lap.
she speaks of digging dirt,
a small grave to return it
to ready hands.

eve

i don't think the poem has serious flaws. in fact, now that i have 'guenter' down, i think it's quite brilliant.

the phrasing is top-shelf. the first stanza, and especially the line "giving us branches", are brilliant. to reverse the concept of "family tree" like that is a remarkable thought.

the word choice is very pure, and startlingly unique. you know your poetry is for an advanced readership. i absolutely would not try to dilute it down to make it more understandable for lesser readers.

the clarity is there, for those who can climb to it.

my problem was trying to know what "guenter" meant, instead of finding out. every time i hit it, i viewed it as a vocabulary problem, or accent problem.

now, i think it is fine, and the error was mine. i should have just stopped with the mental questions and read. it is there.

i think your word choice (shuffalongs, hidey-holes, bullwhip, 'tetched') is first-rate, very appropriate. it has a strong "dixie" feel, like you intended.

i also think the last stanza provides excellent and proper closure. it is hard to match those first 7 lines. they set a high bar.

it is a wonderful piece. i think any tweaking you do should be for image improvement only, if anything strikes you, not in an attempt to clarify.

 

[WickedEve]

eve

i don't think the poem has serious flaws. in fact, now that i have 'guenter' down, i think it's quite brilliant.

the phrasing is top-shelf. the first stanza, and especially the line "giving us branches", are brilliant. to reverse the concept of "family tree" like that is a remarkable thought.

the word choice is very pure, and startlingly unique. you know your poetry is for an advanced readership. i absolutely would not try to dilute it down to make it more understandable for lesser readers.

the clarity is there, for those who can climb to it.

my problem was trying to know what "guenter" meant, instead of finding out. every time i hit it, i viewed it as a vocabulary problem, or accent problem.

now, i think it is fine, and the error was mine. i should have just stopped with the mental questions and read. it is there.

i think your word choice (shuffalongs, hidey-holes, bullwhip, 'tetched') is first-rate, very appropriate. it has a strong "dixie" feel, like you intended.

i also think the last stanza provides excellent and proper closure. it is hard to match those first 7 lines. they set a high bar.

it is a wonderful piece. i think any tweaking you do should be for image improvement only, if anything strikes you, not in an attempt to clarify.

Ah, thank you, yummy man. I'm trying to absorb all my family history from my parents while I can, and put it in my poetry, of course. Jeez, what an ornery cuss this ancestor was. Should I go with this spelling: Günter?

 

[Angeline]

For Eve

Eve's Poem--

always knew god was tetched,
what with armadillos, the moon,
and guenter rose.
he just flung a soul
into that baby,

giving us branches
our granpappy--
a new cry in winter
that soon wailed

into bullwhip rose,
god's guenter
under a confederate sky,
lashing shuffalongs in white fields.

brothers marched north.
brothers marched south.
they marched past guenter,
a shadow in caves,

blue ridge hidey-holes
miles from fields of unpicked clouds,

fields now waiting for sons,
sons waiting for papa's swinging arm.
texas took those sons,
and years later:

"horses rocked us toward that bless you place.
i bumped along on the bed
in chaw-splattered church-white.

i was hush like raw cotton,
unpicked in the sun.

i suppose other wagons came
just so he could bullwhip them aside."

old whip curls like a rattler's memory
in my grandma rose's lap.
she speaks of digging dirt,
a small grave to return it
to ready hands.


This is a natural voice for you, and you write your best poems when you speak it, imo. I agree with Pat, it is brilliant--there are lines in there like this one:

lashing shuffalongs in white fields.

that take my breath away. God girl this may replace you-know-what as my new favorite.

Two tiny nitpicks:

1. a shadow in caves or maybe shadow in a cave? it may not matter--i think it works either way...

2. I'd put a hyphen in "bless-you"

 

[PatCarrington]

Ah, thank you, yummy man. I'm trying to absorb all my family history from my parents while I can, and put it in my poetry, of course. Jeez, what an ornery cuss this ancestor was. Should I go with this spelling: Günter?

yes, i think that would establish it as a name and a person more quickly and clearly, while sacrificin' nothin'.

i can see where your penchant for thin leather and hard plastics come from. there is just no gettin' 'round genetics.

~slurp slurp~

 

[Tathagata]

She.

It's always a she isn't it?
Who bids the world dance,
blades to bloody, poets to write
and babes to gurgle
at words that mean nothing.

She understood.

The profundity of that can't be captured
in a thousand words,
but it can almost be expressed
in two.

A climbing trance
you feel each platform a summit
and then...
higher still.

The journey
becomes
the joy.

To have it drawn away,
your marrow with it,
leaves you cavernous and arid.

You are a reed
through which life passes
and makes a hollow moan
at midnight.

I can live
with dreading midnight,
but I wish my heart deaf
to that hellish moan.

 

[Tathagata]

I am a rumor,
a ghost.
I exist without benefit
of being seen.
I'm passed back and forth
in closeted conversations
and wondered about
during the
in between
moments of life.

Ordinary things
cause me to flash
into the real world,
your world,
and just as suddenly
I fade to black,
scene change,
and my stage becomes shadow.

As if your minds eye
catches movement in its corner
but turning to look
there is nothing .

And you can't quite put
your finger on
what it was.

I'm a knick knack in the attic
that you mean to take downstairs
every time,
but are comforted knowing
I'm still up there,
somewhere.

 

[Angeline]

I am a rumor,
a ghost.
I exist without benefit
of being seen.
I'm passed back and forth
in closeted conversations
and wondered about
during the
in-between
moments of life.

Ordinary things
cause me to flash
into the real world,
your world,
and just as suddenly
I fade to black,
scene change,
and my stage becomes shadow.

As if your minds eye
catches movement in its see apostrophe removed corner,
but turning to look
sees nothing. see space closed

And you can't quite put
your finger on
what I was.

I'm a knick-knack in the attic
that you mean to take downstairs
every time,
but are comforted knowing
I'm still up there,
somewhere.

My suggestions.

 

[Tathagata]

My suggestions.

wow that's all??
I must be done then


thank you sweetie


I still don't like the "I"
in the " can't put your finger" verse...( elipsis for you)

 

[Tathagata]

wow that's all??
I must be done then


thank you sweetie


I still don't like the "I"
in the " can't put your finger" verse...( elipsis for you)

" there is" nothing " rather than " sees nothing" is why there is no " I"
if that makes sense
because, basically. I'm saying I almost dont exist.

 

[Angeline]

" there is" nothing " rather than " sees nothing" is why there is no " I"
if that makes sense
because, basically. I'm saying I almost dont exist.

ok.

see? I'm easy.

in some ways.

 

[Tathagata]

ok.

see? I'm easy.

in some ways.

Like I'm gonna argue with those legs

 

[Angeline]

Like I'm gonna argue with those legs

don't forget the toenails.

 

[Tathagata]

don't forget the toenails.

expertly painted I see

 

[Angeline]

expertly painted I see

lol.

I'm a woman of many talents.

 

[WickedEve]

Eve's Poem--

This is a natural voice for you, and you write your best poems when you speak it, imo. I agree with Pat, it is brilliant--there are lines in there like this one:

lashing shuffalongs in white fields.

that take my breath away. God girl this may replace you-know-what as my new favorite.

Two tiny nitpicks:

1. a shadow in caves or maybe shadow in a cave? it may not matter--i think it works either way...

2. I'd put a hyphen in "bless-you"

I started out with the hyphen then removed it for some reason. So, back to the hyphen, and I'll change the shadow/cave part.
And thank you for not using that other title. We'll just call it "that" poem.
I'm little depressed, though by your comment. This means my natural voice is... is... a southerner! lol

 

[Angeline]

I started out with the hyphen then removed it for some reason. So, back to the hyphen, and I'll change the shadow/cave part.
And thank you for not using that other title. We'll just call it "that" poem.
I'm little depressed, though by your comment. This means my natural voice is... is... a southerner! lol

I knew you'd take that the wrong way damnit! Think William Faulkner, Flannery O'Conner, Carson McCullers, ok?

 

[Tathagata]

I knew you'd take that the wrong way damnit! Think William Faulkner, Flannery O'Conner, Carson McCullers, ok?

Think Walter Brennan in " The Real McCoys"

 

[Tathagata]

I knew you'd take that the wrong way damnit! Think William Faulkner, Flannery O'Conner, Carson McCullers, ok?

ya know...I read the Sound and the Fury twice...I have no fuckin' idea what it's about

 

[Angeline]

Think Walter Brennan in " The Real McCoys"

You are incorrigible!

(And I know why)

 

[Angeline]

ya know...I read the Sound and the Fury twice...I have no fuckin' idea what it's about

Actually I prefer Flannery O'Conner.

 

[Tathagata]

You are incorrigible!

(And I know why)

I'm gonna look that up and it better not mean what I think it does......

 

[PatCarrington]

.....

 

[WickedEve]

Taking On the Bookshelf

Sometimes, bringing them down seems
easier than climbing. I chop, only fingers
for an ax. Keys record the meager notches.

They blister me.
They are hard wood.

I went back several pages but couldn't find the original. So, I can't compare, but I do like this revision. I've read it twice. Some poetry can't be rushed. I'd honestly have to read this a few more times to offer any meaningful suggestions. Here's one picky thing: chop. I can't really think of anything else at the moment to replace it with. I do like it better than liver-spotted, though.

 

[WickedEve]

Oh, I know. How about:
Sometimes, bringing them down seems
easier than climbing. Only fingers
for an ax, keys record the meager notches.

 

[PatCarrington]

I went back several pages but couldn't find the original. So, I can't compare, but I do like this revision. I've read it twice. Some poetry can't be rushed. I'd honestly have to read this a few more times to offer any meaningful suggestions. Here's one picky thing: chop. I can't really think of anything else at the moment to replace it with. I do like it better than liver-spotted, though.

it's on the passion thread, scarlet. it just popped out this morning.

i think it needs a lot. it's just a baby.