Poetry in Progress ~ construction zone

[flyguy69]

Do you mind if I play with it, cymry?

 

[cymry]

Not at all. Play to your heart's content.
I'm very curious to see what you come up with.

 

[flyguy69]

It is hard to rewrite someone else's poetry. The voice is yours, cymry, and I hate tampering in any way that would change that. I have tried, here, to simply clarify the parts that I found confusing, but leave the poem in your voice.

QUOTE=cymry]Time turns my eyes
back 'round front
slipping down,
down
and back up
again. How many days must pass

before I remember to start
at home? In the center,
where truth lives.
Broken lines extend
from there, crowding
this place till there is no room
for straight thought.
Once more,
what was I saying?[/QUOTE]

 

[cymry]

Very Instructional

It is hard to rewrite someone else's poetry. The voice is yours, cymry, and I hate tampering in any way that would change that. I have tried, here, to simply clarify the parts that I found confusing, but leave the poem in your voice.

QUOTE=cymry]Time turns my eyes
back 'round front
slipping down,
down
and back up
again. How many days must pass

before I remember to start
at home? In the center,
where truth lives.
Broken lines extend
from there, crowding
this place till there is no room
for straight thought.
Once more,
what was I saying?

[/QUOTE]

Thank you for taking the time to give it a look.
I appreciate the input, it has helped me tremendously.
Here is a revised version.

Time turns my eyes
back 'round front
slipping down,
down,
before lifting me up again.
How many days must pass
before I remember
to begin at home?
Broken thoughts clash
filling up a place
where there is no room.
Once again,
what was I saying?

 

[flyguy69]

Very nice. I find this version much easier to follow and enjoy. Good work.

Thank you for taking the time to give it a look.
I appreciate the input, it has helped me tremendously.
Here is a revised version.

Time turns my eyes
back 'round front
slipping down,
down,
before lifting me up again.
How many days must pass
before I remember
to begin at home?
Broken thoughts clash
filling up a place
where there is no room.
Once again,
what was I saying?

 

[cymry]

Very nice. I find this version much easier to follow and enjoy. Good work.

 

[cymry]

While I've got your "ear"...

Tear me down
on the savage
shores of your
silent sea.
Seduce from me
the dreams
I have not known
yet linger on the tips
of your fingers.
Take away my
savage appetite
with all the fury
and destruction
you can weave
into your soul
one last time
before indifference
takes its due.

Here is what's giving me trouble.

"Seduce from me
the dreams
I have not known
yet linger on the tips
of your fingers."

This line gives me pause...it just...
well, tell me what you think and
I'll go from there.

 

[flyguy69]

Final form?

::

Field Lines

We circle, wary as magnets
that know their limit—the space between
that can be overcome, the inverse square
of the distance that allows denial
in the face of evidence. Polar opposites,

our world requires a globe
between us, field lines
that stretch fingertips together
at the equator where the heat lies
jungle thick. We know the danger

of proximity, of irresistable
pull, of the embrace
that squeezes reason.
Electricity and magnetism

are inseparable: where there is current
there is attraction. We steel
our resolve when the tongue strikes
the bell and dread that metal
to metal click.

::

 

[annaswirls]

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

 

[annaswirls]

edited version posted later.

 

[flyguy69]

Wait a minute; you cringe at changing anything, yet welcome suggestions? OK, get ready to cringe!

QUOTE=annaswirls]I know I know I have heard keep punctuation consistent. But with this one I cringe at changing anything, capitalizing sentences, ending with periods or taking away the punctuation I do have. Any suggestions or comments welcome

my mind can stretch
like Jane Fonda's leg warmer lifted behind her head <-- I see the image, but the warmer isn't what I see stretching. The strain on her tendons seems more appropriate, though it doesn't lend itself to "holding" something. Perhaps reaching.
it can stretch to hold fantasies
of this fantasy you hold out for me-
it can
and does stretch,
meet you there <-- yes, reaching would work, here.
three notches above our hats <-- this certainly suggests an expanded mind, but the notches and hats language doesn't seem to go with erotica. Are they fuzzy, titillating hats?

but but but so much the more present <-- "present" seems to distinguish this moment in time, while the poem seems to be about a distinction in reality.
is the reality of your thighs
shifting to allow that stretch of skin and flesh
under cotton and how the nipple on my left breast
hardens and aches
and points for attention like Jane
who straddled her anti-aircraft
leaving the vinyl seat damp <-- erotic
with cootch condensation <-- not erotic
oh for the thrill
of fucking the sky <-- yeah, erotic!
until clouds bleed virginal death
drops diffuse and disappear into the light blue ribbon,
the warm river that flows through the cool ocean water <-- not sure about a stream through, yet separate from, an ocean.
It is real. <-- Lack of puctuation makes "it" hard to identify. The river of hymenal blood?
It carries the ships and empty shells
onto my shores. <-- This whole image does little for me
It is real, as real as the salted rain
you drop to my lips. <-- This, however, give me a hard on.
You must have known I would lie in this mud
awake, waiting.


your boot nudges my side,
right below the ribs
to make sure I am still alive <-- why is there any doubt about this? It doesn't seem to be about orgasm because of the end of the last strophe. I don't understand this image.[/QUOTE]

 

[Tzara]

::

Field Lines

We circle, wary as magnets
that know their limit—the space between
that can be overcome, the inverse square
of the distance that allows denial
in the face of evidence. Polar opposites,

our world requires a globe
between us, field lines
that stretch fingertips together
at the equator where the heat lies
jungle thick. We know the danger

of proximity, of irresistable
pull, of the embrace
that squeezes reason.
Electricity and magnetism

are inseparable: where there is current
there is attraction. We steel
our resolve when the tongue strikes
the bell and dread that metal
to metal click.

::

Hey, Fly.

There are a couple of picky things that bother me about this. It looks to me like you are mixing references to geomagnetism and permanent (bar) magnetism, which are somewhat different. The closing image (and the way I read the initial image) is of two bar magnets. But then the lines

............Polar opposites,

our world requires a globe
between us, field lines
that stretch fingertips together
at the equator where the heat lies
jungle thick.​

clearly use the earth as metaphor, and the nature of the geomagnetic field is different. Besides the difference in how the field originates, it messes up the first image for me--that of the magnets circling.

I see the original image as two objects circling around a central moment (kind of like the earth and the moon circling each other, if viewed in isolation). But in the earth's case, the poles are spinning on a central axis--not circling each other.

This is probably overpicky, but confuses the image for me.

Just a comment. Liked the poem overall quite a lot.

 

[duckiesmut]

::

Field Lines

We circle, wary as magnets
that know their limit—the space between
that can be overcome, the inverse square
of the distance that allows denial
in the face of evidence. Polar opposites,

our world requires a globe
between us, field lines
that stretch fingertips together
at the equator where the heat lies
jungle thick. We know the danger

of proximity, of irresistable
pull, of the embrace
that squeezes reason.
Electricity and magnetism

are inseparable: where there is current
there is attraction. We steel
our resolve when the tongue strikes
the bell and dread that metal
to metal click.

::

I know very little about the differing forms of magnetism, so I'll leave those questions to Tzara. In fact, I'm going to be decidedly unhelpful, except to point out the bolded misspelling. And to say that I liked this. Enjambment always helps the eye glide through the poem, but your use of it here is splendid.

 

[annaswirls]

Thank you thank you thank you.

I am not about to defend the poem, just answer the questions, okay? Answering questions is an insult to the poem, not to the reviewer. Just know I know it

oh and by the way I cringe at changing the punctuation, not the poem itself

Wait a minute; you cringe at changing anything, yet welcome suggestions? OK, get ready to cringe!

QUOTE=annaswirls]I know I know I have heard keep punctuation consistent. But with this one I cringe at changing anything, capitalizing sentences, ending with periods or taking away the punctuation I do have. Any suggestions or comments welcome

my mind can stretch
like Jane Fonda's leg warmer lifted behind her head <-- I see the image, but the warmer isn't what I see stretching. The strain on her tendons seems more appropriate, though it doesn't lend itself to "holding" something. Perhaps reaching. Yep. thanks.

it can stretch to hold fantasies
of this fantasy you hold out for me-
it can
and does stretch,
meet you there <-- yes, reaching would work, here.
three notches above our hats <-- this certainly suggests an expanded mind, but the notches and hats language doesn't seem to go with erotica. Are they fuzzy, titillating hats? ha ha ha no, just my way of saying meeting somewhere outside of the body. to bring back the fantasy. I really did not intend this to be erotica


but but but so much the more present <-- "present" seems to distinguish this moment in time, while the poem seems to be about a distinction in reality. hmmm yea. I was going for the more mindful new agey meaning of present hmm.

is the reality of your thighs
shifting to allow that stretch of skin and flesh
under cotton and how the nipple on my left breast
hardens and aches
and points for attention like Jane
who straddled her anti-aircraft
leaving the vinyl seat damp <-- erotic
with cootch condensation <-- not erotic ha! I know. I wanted to call her cunt but you know, cootch just seemed to fit for me-- seems like a derrogatory term that one army might give to members of another army.

oh for the thrill
of fucking the sky <-- yeah, erotic!
until clouds bleed virginal death
drops diffuse and disappear into the light blue ribbon,
the warm river that flows through the cool ocean water <-- not sure about a stream through, yet separate from, an ocean. thinking of the Gulf Stream current, you can actually see it moving, it is lighter blue. Did I imagine this? I think it is real.

It is real. <-- Lack of puctuation makes "it" hard to identify. The river of hymenal blood?
It carries the ships and empty shells
onto my shores. <-- This whole image does little for me yeah I heard that from someone else. I will do something about it. I have to have the current carry something.

It is real, as real as the salted rain
you drop to my lips. <-- This, however, give me a hard on. I will make a note of that. Do you think I will ever outgrow the thrill of giving a man a hard on? I am so immature!

You must have known I would lie in this mud
awake, waiting.


your boot nudges my side,
right below the ribs
to make sure I am still alive <-- why is there any doubt about this? It doesn't seem to be about orgasm because of the end of the last strophe. I don't understand this image. Hmm was trying to go back to fucking the sky with bullets, Jane getting all wet over it. Thank you! You have given me a lot to think about-- and fuck now I have to fucking edit this fucking poem and I do not fucking want to damn it.

eh hem

bows graciously to you, thank you kindly good Sir,

anna

[/QUOTE]

 

[flyguy69]

Tzara, Tzara, Tzara. There are no magnets in this poem.

We move, like magnets. We have attractive properties, like geomagnetic fields.

Is there a 12 step program for scientist/poets? You, anna and I could be charter members!

Hey, Fly.

There are a couple of picky things that bother me about this. It looks to me like you are mixing references to geomagnetism and permanent (bar) magnetism, which are somewhat different. The closing image (and the way I read the initial image) is of two bar magnets. But then the lines

............Polar opposites,

our world requires a globe
between us, field lines
that stretch fingertips together
at the equator where the heat lies
jungle thick.​

clearly use the earth as metaphor, and the nature of the geomagnetic field is different. Besides the difference in how the field originates, it messes up the first image for me--that of the magnets circling.

I see the original image as two objects circling around a central moment (kind of like the earth and the moon circling each other, if viewed in isolation). But in the earth's case, the poles are spinning on a central axis--not circling each other.

This is probably overpicky, but confuses the image for me.

Just a comment. Liked the poem overall quite a lot.

 

[flyguy69]

I know very little about the differing forms of magnetism, so I'll leave those questions to Tzara. In fact, I'm going to be decidedly unhelpful, except to point out the bolded misspelling. And to say that I liked this. Enjambment always helps the eye glide through the poem, but your use of it here is splendid.

 

[Tzara]

Tzara, Tzara, Tzara. There are no magnets in this poem.

We move, like magnets. We have attractive properties, like geomagnetic fields.

Is there a 12 step program for scientist/poets? You, anna and I could be charter members!

Sorry. I thought it was a meta for dipole moment.

Never mind.

 

[flyguy69]

Sorry. I thought it was a meta for dipole moment.

Never mind.

It was a pretty good gauss.

 

[Tzara]

It was a pretty good gauss.

Well, the original point was to curie favor with you, but it didn't work and now I'm left in hysteresis.

 

[flyguy69]

Well, the original point was to curie favor with you, but it didn't work and now I'm left in hysteresis.

No need to fret. Tomorrow will be a farraday.

 

[Tzara]

No need to fret. Tomorrow will be a farraday.

Ah, 'tis la différence.

 

[flyguy69]

Ah, 'tis la différence.

Have we punished each other enough?

 

[Tzara]

Have we punished each other enough?

Yes. I recede.

 

[PatCarrington]

Yes. I recede.

too much time on your hands, guys?

find some women.

 

[Guest]

Run for the hills girls!