Poetry in Progress ~ construction zone

[flyguy69]

Your growth is very exciting to me ... Oh geez, that stuff keeps popping up!
Seriously ::fly-spotted-guy I think the new ending really lost the painful meat of the original you offered here.

You have that effect on me

Thanks, Champ. I wondered if the fight was an unnecessary detail.

And get back to work, Tzara!

 

[flyguy69]

Cat has some excellent comments, Neo, I second them. And this poem is brimming with potential!

QUOTE=neonurotic]....
Counting +


It's instinct for a small hand
to grasp a finger
and it's ours to count. <-- This reads as a parallel between a small hand and "us" (the whole person). I would like it better if the parallel were between hands or persons.

Precious ten, each one perfect
kiss them all.

Both fit in a palm, tiny, but powerful <-- "Both," but you just said "ten"
kiss them too.

Here is a better man
than he'd thought he'd ever be <-- I don't think you need this. Like Cat, I think you could cite an example of the changes you have experienced and let the reader decide if you are better.
watching new life

catching breath when she holds
hers. Will this be the last?
Or will the next? <-- What Cat said

The counting begins, fingers
hands, feet and toes.
All natural numbers of ten or two. <-- This statement detracts from the next strophe. Specifically the "ten or two"

Tonight it will be breaths and heart rate,
forty and one hundred forty.
Normal enough for both of us to sleep. <-- This is wonderful![/QUOTE]

 

[tungtied2u]

Empty perfection

On the deck overlooking the marina
peanut shells lay in piles,
ripped open and strewn about
boats sit empty, moored
rocked by waves rippling
thru the channel
I sit, observe the shoreline
as cars hurry home
along the Embarcadero
a constant stream of purpose
with no perceptible endpoint

concrete towers, trees, ship’s masts
stand in crowded silhouette
to a blue background
I am familiar with
day in and day out
in empty perfection
a postcard waiting
for a mailer
flat, one dimensional
lacking depth and vibration

the shells are crushed
and brushed aside
the traffic continues at waterside
the boats buoy
the spires cloy
I sink and surface
in unending beers
dusk draws near
just a trace of me remains
spirals in a smoky haze
up then disappears
empty without you

 

[sandspike]

My kinda poem

Tung- I really like this 'Empty Perfection'. Great visuals, too many for me.


"the traffic continues at waterside
the boats buoy
the spires cloy
I sink and surface"

I would loose the middle two lines.

"dusk draws near
just a trace of me remains"

I lost a step there. I don't know if it's the words or rhythm.

Otherwise I think you have something I related to greatly. She certainly
goes to weather, if you get my drift.

 

[Guest]

Thanks Cat, thanks fly, I'll work on, 'Counting +' a little more and add your suggestions then bring it back for another looksy.

 

[PatCarrington]

.....

 

[Tzara]

Raw Language

The coarse words fill your mouth
like crudités in a bowl
set out for my enjoyment.

-I would get rid of the first ‘the’
-I would perhaps exchange ‘set out’ for ‘arranged and move it to the end of the second line and move ‘in a bowl’ down one


I savor their crisp snap,
but the dip seems a bit too
capsicum flavored. Was that

-I know that savour works well with your metaphor but it’s such a calm word that I am not sure it does justice to the line. Pardon the use of the reference to dogs here, but I would have thought the ‘snap’ would unleash a pavlovian kind of reaction. Something immediate and intense that maybe after the initial reaction or response could be savoured?
-I think your second line needs to be more concise

your intent? I feel now
pretty hot and suddenly
ravenous for the entrée.

-I like the fact that this poem is short but I think maybe you could use a transitional stanza before you wrap things up with wanting the entrée. ‘I feel pretty hot ‘ is an honest line but it doesn’t match the rest of your language in terms of being unique and interesting.

Let’s eat, shall we?

-I personally don’t like to end poems with question marks. The line also seems passive to me which I don’t think ends your poem on the right note. I think ending with an interesting statement of intent would work better.

Just some thoughts.

Cat

PS I always forget to say that I don’t comment unless I think the poem is interesting and has potential.

Thank you, Ms. Cat, for the comments.

I really like the suggestion of using "arranged" in the first strophe. I don't quite see how to do it yet, but it's a really good suggestion. (Memo to self--active verbs! active verbs!)

You're absolutely right about the extraneous "the" in the first line and the extraneous words in the lines below. I was counting syllables to give myself some kind of structure, because free verse terrifies me. But "Coarse words fill your mouth" is way better.

"Pavlovian" made me chuckle. I was a grad student in experimental animal psychology (Skinnerian, though, not Pavlovian, though at the time there were a lot of wars about whose turf was what or where), so that struck home.

And yes, the third strophe and last line are lame. I don't mind ending on a question, but this was just laziness and thank you for calling me out on it.

As a novice poet let me thank you profusely (please excuse the drool and tears) for actually taking the time and effort to comment on something I wrote. I have no fucking idea what I'm doing, so some reasonable comments are extremely helpful.

They're now stapled to the draft.

tz

Editud to kurect problums with speling "Pavlovian."

 

[tungtied2u]

Poet's Passing

commentss please

I sit and watch and wonder why
the stars are falling from the sky
each passing makes my sad heart sigh
while teardrops well up in my eyes

Each shone with such a unique light
Illuminated the darkest night
Dazzled, intrigued beguiled my sight
birthed wonder ,launched my fancies’ flight

Impressed memories ring crystal clear
as echoes vibrate in my ear
alas, these friends I hold so dear
now spread across the hemisphere

in search of gentler, nurt’ring space
to expand their brilliance, shower grace
and hope on mankind’s numbing race
to reach a final resting place

although my load is hard to carry
through their existence, momentary
I learn to pause, enjoy and tarry
in life’s rich fabric, deep and varied.

 

[mold_spore]

Strands of awakening
Spaghetti hanging through I walk
I see you then
Consumed in the future
Looking back

Faint emotions from old goodbyes
Skip acrossed today till the time
I'll walk by, a stranger's glance
Just a flicker in my eye

Today holds meaning, I'm living
Fresh air, now, touching
It's my friend, walk with me
It's all that is real.

 

[PatCarrington]

1st revision

.....

 

[twelveoone]

Thank you, Ms. Cat, for the comments.

You're absolutely right about the extraneous "the" in the first line and the extraneous words in the lines below. I was counting syllables to give myself some kind of structure, because free verse terrifies me. But "Coarse words fill your mouth" is way better.

Agree with "the" ; rethink structure. Too MFA. Marianne Moore was the best syllable counter around, but some times she sounded like an old woman, which I guess she was.
Balance.

And yes, the third strophe and last line are lame. I don't mind ending on a question, but this was just laziness and thank you for calling me out on it.

I don't know
Three things bother me:
"but the dip seems a bit too"
"bit too" on first read, thought it should be dropped, but it also seems to belong there, calling attention to itself.

"capsicum flavored. Was that

your intent? I feel now"
I'm not a fan of these breaks, here it works, if done for sound.

"your intent? I feel now
pretty hot and suddenly"

end words "now" and "suddenly", see why you did that
but where is the urgency?

As is, it is good enough for the New Yorker it has that structure and flow. But that be a mixed blessing, now.

Not they way I would write it, which is why, I don't get over here often , and that be a blessing, eh?

...but i just had to see

 

[twelveoone]

.....

I like this Pat, radical departure, would have done it
....!

 

[flyguy69]

The final stanza is strong enough to rescue this poem from the sticky sentiment of the first, but why ensnare it so?

It is a wonderful elegy, tt2u. My thoughts:

Is it about a particular poet or poets? I wanted to know more about them. Not biographies, but a detail or two that makes me appreciate your loss.

The "lost loved ones as stars in the sky" metaphor is substantially overused. I don't think you need to lose the night sky image, but I would look for another way to represent your friends. In the last stanza you introduce a fabric metaphor: perhaps this could be expanded.

Along that same vein: the fabric metaphor is excellent. I would have liked it tied to the beginning, somehow. A revisiting of the rich textures, the strength of the weave, etc.

I love the rhyme scheme. It evokes a formality that works well, here.

I look forward to seeing more of this one.

commentss please

I sit and watch and wonder why
the stars are falling from the sky
each passing makes my sad heart sigh
while teardrops well up in my eyes

Each shone with such a unique light
Illuminated the darkest night
Dazzled, intrigued beguiled my sight
birthed wonder ,launched my fancies’ flight

Impressed memories ring crystal clear
as echoes vibrate in my ear
alas, these friends I hold so dear
now spread across the hemisphere

in search of gentler, nurt’ring space
to expand their brilliance, shower grace
and hope on mankind’s numbing race
to reach a final resting place

although my load is hard to carry
through their existence, momentary
I learn to pause, enjoy and tarry
in life’s rich fabric, deep and varied.

 

[Tzara]

Poet's Passing

I sit and watch and wonder why
the stars are falling from the sky
each passing makes my sad heart sigh
while teardrops well up in my eyes

Each shone with such a unique light
Illuminated the darkest night
Dazzled, intrigued beguiled my sight
birthed wonder ,launched my fancies’ flight

Impressed memories ring crystal clear
as echoes vibrate in my ear
alas, these friends I hold so dear
now spread across the hemisphere

in search of gentler, nurt’ring space
to expand their brilliance, shower grace
and hope on mankind’s numbing race
to reach a final resting place

although my load is hard to carry
through their existence, momentary
I learn to pause, enjoy and tarry
in life’s rich fabric, deep and varied.

I find this a very interesting poem, especially in its use of form, and have been wanting to comment on it. Since it's a long way from Orlando to the Left Coast and I wasn't interested in the movie, I had some time today to write out some notes. I see Fly beat me to the punch, but here goes anyway. I'm going to hijack Angeline's Rubric from its proper place on her workshop thread and muck a bit with the order:

Structure: The poem is written in rhymed iambic tetrameter with some slight metrical variations. Metrical rhymed verse is a form that some readers find tiresome, often because of the "singsong" quality it can have. (I've always had problems with some of Wordsworth's poems for this reason--they just seem to "chug a chug a chug" along and I get lulled to sleep.) In this case, I think the form is actually the strongest feature of the poem. The rhyme is true, or at least close enough to true so as to not sound forced. The meter features some slight variations in the second, third, and fourth stanzas that to my ear rescue it from monotony and the terminating stanza replaces the final iambic foot on each line with an amphibrach that both refreshes the ear and conveys a sense of finality or resignation to the closing lines by ending on an unstressed syllable. (Golly! Amphibrach! A new word for me. Would the form police please validate I'm using it correctly or, for that matter, any of the other "poemy" words, since I've not tried to analyze metrical structure before?)

For me, one of the valuable things about commenting on other people's work is the chance to learn something about how poetry works. A week ago I would have faulted this poem for being metrically inconsistent, but after doing a bit of reading about tetrameter (here), and reading some of the examples, I have changed my mind. (If metrical variations were OK with Billy Blake and Andy Marvell, then by God they're all right with me!)

Other than the final stanza, which I already mentioned, there are to my ear four breaks from the prominent metrical scheme:

• 2.2: Illuminated the darkest night, which throws in an extra unstressed syllable about half way through
• 2.3: Dazzled, intrigued beguiled my sight, which I can read either as a trochee followed by three iambs or as two trochees followed by two iambs (which is normally how I read it and what I think sounds better)
• 3.1: Impressed memories ring crystal clear, which I catch as iamb, amphibrach, iamb, iamb
• 4.2: to expand their brilliance, shower grace, which puts an extra unstressed syllable at the start of the line and tosses in a caesura towards the end as well

I like all of these variants except for the first. I would probably change the line to Illuminated darkest night which I think still carries the same sense. I think the reason I like that sound better is that then there is one pure tetrameter stanza followed by three in which there is one variation in each, followed by a terminating metrically pure stanza in which the meter is slightly different.

Theme: The theme is straightforwardly expressed. I read it as a comment on recent events here with some of the longtime contributors leaving and the narrator's sadness about that coupled with hope that they've found a better forum in which to learn. That is a slightly different reading than Fly (I think) and, if accurate, I would rather not have more specifics, as I think that would tie it too much to local events.

Word Choice: The area I think would best benefit from some revision is word choice and consistency of imagery. Phrases like "makes my sad heart sigh" and "teardrops well up in my eyes" set off my Cliché-o-Meter (a device that seems to randomly insert such phrases into my own work--is it a Windows bug, er, feature?) But word choice is often a very personal thing and difficulty of choosing words that are not as common is complicated by both the rhyme and the metrical convention. So I will only suggest that perhaps some of the wording be looked at with cliché or stale imagery in mind.

Mechanics: The poem seems to want a bit more punctuation, I think. Capitalization seems inconsistent--if capitals are being used to indicate the start of "sentences," I would have thought that the final stanza should have started with a cap. I'd also like a comma at the end of 5.1 to separate the second line (which refers back to the poets who have left) from the thought on the first line (which is the narrator's). There are a few other places that could use a bit of touch-up for readability as well.

All in all I found this a quite enjoyable and interesting read. It is really really hard to make rhymed regular meter sound natural (as I said above, even Wordsworth doesn't often do it well to my ear). I think this poem does a pretty damn good job of it, and that's something that's pretty impressive.

Of course, all of my comments may be fertilizer as well. If so, sprinkle them on your roses and water liberally.

I did think it was a pretty good poem and could be very good with some work. Nice job, Tung.

tz

 

[tungtied2u]

Reoet's Passing

Fly and Tzara- Thank you both so much for your critiques of my poem. They were both enlightening and incisive. I'm sure you both spent more time with your comments than I did writing the poem.

Just a few words in response-
Regarding the cliche's- I agree. I'll work on those.

As to the subject matter, Tzara ,you are spot on.

Structure- suffice it to say I am pretty much illiterate to the exact technical terminology, but I am familiar with stresses, meter and what sounds good to my ear. Usually, I write free style, but on occasion dabble in form poetry. Several of the poets here are an inspiration to me on that front- Angeline,Catbabe,The Fool and Boomerengue to mention a few. Making the poem read naturally despite line breaks is something I work to do, and am glad I was able to somewhat pull it off.

Fly- You're right about mixing 2 different metaphor references, and I think I'll work on carrying one throughout.

Punctuation and capitalization....I'll try to make it more consistent.

I'm such a slacker...but the mood hit me to get my feelings down...wanted to make a tribute to those here who have been such an inspiration and help to me.
They really deserved something a bit more polished and professional. Hope I can make that right.

Thanks again to you both. You rock!

 

[tungtied2u]

Poet's Passing (2nd draft)

I sit and watch and wonder why
the stars are shooting through the sky
they drop as tears, trail down and die
within my chest, where breathes a sigh.

Each shone with such a unique light,
illuminated darkest night
intrigued, beguiled, transformed my sight
birthed wonder ,launched my fancies’ flight.

Fashioned phrases ring crystal clear,
their echoes vibrate in my ear.
Alas, these friends I hold so dear
now spread across the hemisphere

in search of gentler, nurt’ring space
to cast their brilliance, shower grace
and hope on mankind’s numbing race
to reach a final resting place.

Although my load is hard to carry,
through their existence, momentary,
I found to pause, enjoy and tarry
in life’s rich fabric, deep and varied,

 

[Tzara]

.....

 

[Tzara]

Agree with "the" ; rethink structure. Too MFA. Marianne Moore was the best syllable counter around, but some times she sounded like an old woman, which I guess she was.
Balance.

You make "MFA" sound like a pejorative, like it stands for "muddled, flatulent, arch" or something. Perhaps it does, or should. But I've been thinking about that article you referenced and will comment on that in time as well. I don't think we see exactly eye-to-eye on the question and I look forward to debating you on it.

As for the counting syllables, sometimes a little structure is a good thing. As I indicated, free verse scares me--why put a line break just here or there? What's the reason? Hence, syllable counting. It leads to some of what is awkward in the poem.

I don't know
Three things bother me:
"but the dip seems a bit too"
"bit too" on first read, thought it should be dropped, but it also seems to belong there, calling attention to itself.

It was there originally both to make the syllable count come out right and to alliterate with "but" and rhyme with "dip."

"capsicum flavored. Was that

your intent? I feel now"
I'm not a fan of these breaks, here it works, if done for sound.

Counting counting counting. Not paying a lot of attention.

"your intent? I feel now
pretty hot and suddenly"

end words "now" and "suddenly", see why you did that
but where is the urgency?

The "pretty hot" is from eating a pepper-flavored dip. The "suddenly" is off of the intended double entendre of "pretty hot" (i.e., sexually aroused). Which leads to wanting the "entreé" (both main course and sexual entry).

As is, it is good enough for the New Yorker it has that structure and flow.

No it isn't, of course, but I'd be pretty happy with it if it was. I sense another "MFA-like" sneer. Not all conventional poetry is to be sniffed at, doctor. Again, I hope to debate that with you in more depth in the near future.

The poem was intended to be a sort of silly light piece based on sexual double entendre or multiple meanings of words. I am currently rethinking that based on both your comments and those Cat made earlier.

Thanks for the comments, youngster.

 

[flyguy69]

::
Ripe

Orchards teem with apple-
cheeked children rustling tall grass
like laughter, like October
showers on finger-painted
leaves. This season bursts

with sugar, the harvest
of fruits and summer skin,
deep golds and reds
burnished by the slow roll
of August, the rich soil
of September. From dark roots

fall flows upwards, filling
the flesh, the leaves, the air
with the industry of a growing
season: the syrup

dribbling from our mouths
in this sweet season, sweeter
than any other.
::



edited to add: I'm not sure it is controversial enough. What do you think?

 

[*Catbabe*]

Ripe

Orchards teem with apple-
cheeked children rustling tall grass
like laughter, like October
showers on finger-painted
leaves. This season bursts

-I understand that it connects to the word orchard but I think apple-cheeked children is a cliché. I think you could come up with a phrase that would feel more alive and real.
-I am not someone who dislikes the use of the word, ‘like’, but you use it twice in a row. You give us warring images, ‘like laughter’ and ‘like October showers on finger painted leaves.” I think you need to pick one because having both doesn’t add to the poem

with sugar, the harvest
of fruits and summer skin,
deep golds and reds
burnished by the slow roll
of August, the rich soil
of September. From dark roots

-did you have something in mind when you used the word ‘burst’? If you did, the poem might benefit from its direct mention. As it is, I try to add my own ideas of things that burst with sugar and the only thing I can think of is a fruit splitting with seams of leaking juice. I wouldn’t say they burst though…

-my brain reads the first and second lines as ‘the harvest of fruits and summer skin.’ Maybe grammatically I shouldn’t, but that’s the way I currently see it, which leaves me wondering how you harvest summer skin.


fall flows upwards, filling
the flesh, the leaves, the air
with the industry of a growing
season: the syrup

dribbling from our mouths
in this sweet season, sweeter
than any other.

-one final comment would be that for a short poem, you use the word ‘season’ three times. In the last four lines of the poem, you use it twice.

I think you have an uphill battle with fall and the changing season as the core of your poem just because it’s something so many people have written about for a very long time. As it is, it reminds me too much of things I have read before and leaves me wondering exactly what inspired you to write it. I never want to finish a poem and only see words on a page of paper. I want to see what you saw. I want to feel pulled into that moment.

I think you have the skills and vision to make this a better poem by making it more specific in its images and more personal in its tone.



Cat

::
Ripe

Orchards teem with apple-
cheeked children rustling tall grass
like laughter, like October
showers on finger-painted
leaves. This season bursts

with sugar, the harvest
of fruits and summer skin,
deep golds and reds
burnished by the slow roll
of August, the rich soil
of September. From dark roots

fall flows upwards, filling
the flesh, the leaves, the air
with the industry of a growing
season: the syrup

dribbling from our mouths
in this sweet season, sweeter
than any other.
::



edited to add: I'm not sure it is controversial enough. What do you think?

 

[SeattleRain]

Hey there poets. I've watched this thread for a long time, but have always felt intimidated posting my poems next to the high caliber of work that this thread already contains. I have decided to post now in hopes to improve this poem with your suggestions and to grow a little as a poet.

Hey Neo! When did you slip in here??? Welcome! Cool beans.

I think this poem is incredibly sweet and I am going to try to quell my maternal instincts and read it objectively.

--

First of all, I think you should stick to the counting, focus on the first and last sstanzas and cut out much of the rest. Even through they are good and important lines, they could be used elsewhere to pull this one together.

Oh how it hurts to cut such tender lines, but I think that it would pull the poem together. Anyone with children knows how hard it is to write about them without melting into a pool.... sigh....

okay I am going to be harsh now, so put away the paternal instincts.

Don't look below the poem if you do not want to see my experimentation with it, okay?

Such a lucky baby....


Counting +


It's instinct for a small hand
to grasp a finger
and it's ours to count.

Precious ten, each one perfect
kiss them all.

Both fit in a palm, tiny, but powerful
kiss them too.

Here is a better man
than he'd thought he'd ever be
watching new life <You jump from talking about yourself (ours) then take a step back (here is a better man)

catching breath when she holds
hers. Will this be the last? <I first read this as last baby you will have? but I got itOr will the next?

The counting begins, fingers
hands, feet and toes.
All natural numbers of ten or two. <you already counted them in the second stanza

Tonight it will be breaths and heart rate,<love this idea and the sound of the words together
forty and one hundred forty.
Normal enough for both of us to sleep.[/QUOTE]




....................


Counting +


It's instinct for a small hand
to grasp a finger
and it's ours to count.

It begins with fingers
hands, feet and toes.
All natural numbers of ten or two.


I catch my breath whenever she holds
hers. Could this one be her last?
Or the next?


Tonight it will be breaths and heart rate,
forty and one hundred forty.
Normal enough for both of us to sleep.

(Maybe add a descriptor of the "us" at the end?
maybe from the "Here is a better man than he'd thought he'd ever be" part? for us to sleep, a ten fingered miracle and ____?"




( I love the last stanza exactly as it is. You might consider throwing in something like counting breaths and heart beats like sheep??? Sleeping wrapped in the faith that everything is normal?)


As I thought might happen, I think many of my suggestions may be too sappy. I can't help it. My maternal instincts. I love babies.

 

[flyguy69]

Thanks, Cat! Very helpful.

In S2 I am using "harvest" as a noun.

Ripe

Orchards teem with apple-
cheeked children rustling tall grass
like laughter, like October
showers on finger-painted
leaves. This season bursts

-I understand that it connects to the word orchard but I think apple-cheeked children is a cliché. I think you could come up with a phrase that would feel more alive and real.
-I am not someone who dislikes the use of the word, ‘like’, but you use it twice in a row. You give us warring images, ‘like laughter’ and ‘like October showers on finger painted leaves.” I think you need to pick one because having both doesn’t add to the poem

with sugar, the harvest
of fruits and summer skin,
deep golds and reds
burnished by the slow roll
of August, the rich soil
of September. From dark roots

-did you have something in mind when you used the word ‘burst’? If you did, the poem might benefit from its direct mention. As it is, I try to add my own ideas of things that burst with sugar and the only thing I can think of is a fruit splitting with seams of leaking juice. I wouldn’t say they burst though…

-my brain reads the first and second lines as ‘the harvest of fruits and summer skin.’ Maybe grammatically I shouldn’t, but that’s the way I currently see it, which leaves me wondering how you harvest summer skin.


fall flows upwards, filling
the flesh, the leaves, the air
with the industry of a growing
season: the syrup

dribbling from our mouths
in this sweet season, sweeter
than any other.

-one final comment would be that for a short poem, you use the word ‘season’ three times. In the last four lines of the poem, you use it twice.

I think you have an uphill battle with fall and the changing season as the core of your poem just because it’s something so many people have written about for a very long time. As it is, it reminds me too much of things I have read before and leaves me wondering exactly what inspired you to write it. I never want to finish a poem and only see words on a page of paper. I want to see what you saw. I want to feel pulled into that moment.

I think you have the skills and vision to make this a better poem by making it more specific in its images and more personal in its tone.



Cat

 

[PatCarrington]

Thanks, Cat! Very helpful.

In S2 I am using "harvest" as a noun.

fly,

i don't think Cat meant you were using "harvest" as a verb, merely that your phrasing could be read as having the noun "harvest" modified by one adjective phrase that has a compund object..."of fruits and summer skin".

i think she has a point.

 

[flyguy69]

fly,

i don't think Cat meant you were using "harvest" as a verb, merely that your phrasing could be read as having the noun "harvest" modified by one adjective phrase that has a compund object..."of fruits and summer skin".

i think she has a point.

That girl is smart. I should listen to her more!

 

[PatCarrington]

That girl is smart. I should listen to her more!

she is.

that's why i never argue with her any more....i always lose.