IceM's Poetry Laboratory

[tailor STATELY]

This poem touched me. Just a few suggestions below.

Awakening

The clouds remain,
So too, the sun.
The skies, still gray,
My cheeks, still dun.

But time has pass’t,
So too, my eye
That could not see
Beauty in her.

Monotony
was once her name.
Now all seems alive--
The bees buzzing
In honey hives,
A lazy cat
Snugly purring
With her lover,
Under a tree.

What did I do
To make my eyes
Appear renew’d?

Many just see
An overcast sky
And gray, drab hues
Abound outside.
Yet with keen eye,
One can discern
Just how alive
The nature is.

The line " Beauty in her." clunked for me for some reason - perhaps that was your intention.
Maybe: Her beauty faire (or something)

And I especially enjoyed

Many just see
An overcast sky
And gray, drab hues
Abound outside.
Yet with keen eye,
One can discern
Just how alive
The nature is.

with the exception of the last line; perhaps: Nature's being (or something)

Thank you for sharing.

Ta ! (short for tarradiddle),
tailor STATELY

[Alexander III]

"A Nihilistic Mindset

Birds with clipped wings
cry out, unheard by the world.
yet they will still sing."


Wow I really like this one, it is my favorite of yours, for such a short pome it has such power, bravo!

[IceM]

This poem touched me. Just a few suggestions below.



The line " Beauty in her." clunked for me for some reason - perhaps that was your intention.
Maybe: Her beauty faire (or something)

And I especially enjoyed with the exception of the last line; perhaps: Nature's being (or something)

Thank you for sharing.

Ta ! (short for tarradiddle),
tailor STATELY

Thank you for reading Tailor! I agree, "Beauty in her" seems clumpy. But I tried iambic bimeter, and, as for now, beauty fits. Maybe "Nature's Beauty" would work, and I certainly will try some of your recommendations. Aside from that, I feel confident with the finished product I posted. Thank you for reading!

"A Nihilistic Mindset

Birds with clipped wings
cry out, unheard by the world.
yet they will still sing."


Wow I really like this one, it is my favorite of yours, for such a short pome it has such power, bravo!

Thanks for reading Alexander! I tried the haiku, my only knowledge of it being the 5-7-5 syllabic form. Not sure if there are other criteria to satisfy that format.

I'm interested to see what you, as well as Tailor and the other readers, have thought of my other entries, as well as the following one, entitled, Starlit Nights.

Gravel rattles under the wheels,
midnight moon providing the light
that illuminates the dirt road
where Mary is released tonight.

See anywhere you care to stop?
We only get one chance at this.

Better judgment shed with clothing,
Windows sweating with Love's sweet skin,
Fixed in place to watch this moment,
Stars above turn crimson with sin.

Raucous rocking setting a pace,
Hooting owls enhance the mood,
Tender sighs and fragmented moans
jointly form our sweet etudes.

Time will someday mar your beauty,
Maybe too will our new love fade.
Yet, forever sealed above is
Passion's outbust in maroon shades.

Look above and into the sky,
With both keen eye and memory,
You will see our moment renew'd
And forever seal'd in posterity.

[Delta40]

I like the poetry IceM. Made me think of steamy sex on a train more than a starlit night but I mean that as a compliment.

the promise of tonight does not do the stanza justice, I think. It sounds unoriginal to me.

[IceM]

The Classroom

The drone of voices violate
our right to quiet, peaceful thought.
This class does not teach calculus

How could he wear that in public?

The conversation roars with foam,
as rabid dogs or raging Elymus
declaring himself God. With each
crescendo in volume

You have got to be a surgeon.

thought

I wouldn't mind trying that in college.

is blown

Are you getting an apartment?

out, out

They are so cute together!

until abilities to function

She has a C in this class?

are increasingly decreasing.

[Hawkman]

I have a little trouble getting a handle on this poem. The reference to calculus I interpret as an oblique indicator the the classroom, or at least this classroom, is not an environment conducive to learning. The two cohesive strophes separated by the seemingly random rhetorical question which forshadows the division, line by line, of the thrid strophe, is quite effective, but I wonder if dwindling concentration would not have been better illustrated by having a longer third stroph divided at increasing intervals to reflect the statement it makes.

The reference to Elymus is frankly baffling. "as rabid dogs or raging Elymus" is almost a nice pun on elymus caninus, a species of grass, but "Declaring himself God"? I'm afraid my classical education only admits to knowing that Elymus was a Trojan who was assisted by Aeneas to build a couple of settlements in Sicily. I can find no reference to delusions of divinity on his part.

I may be missing something, but I'm afraid this one doesn't quite work for me.

Live and be well - H

[hillwalker]

I get the message that the students in this class are more concerned with tittle-tattle than learning. But I have the same problem as Hawk :

This class does not teach calculus - why 'teach' rather than 'do' or 'promote' or 'encourage' ?

I assume 'voilate' should be 'violate'...

The reference to Elymus also leaves me as baffled as Hawk since I don't see how he (who?) fits into the metaphor of chaos overtaking the hallowed atmosphere of the study hall.

'abilities to function / are increasingly decreasing' was also rather a weak statement on which to end (although I'm tempted to applaud your use of the word 'function' with reference to 'calculus' if it was intentional).

I just felt the idea behind this - intertwining banal teen-chat with a vain yearning for more classic standards in education - was original but the execution fell short of expectation.

H

[IceM]

I have a little trouble getting a handle on this poem. The reference to calculus I interpret as an oblique indicator the the classroom, or at least this classroom, is not an environment conducive to learning. The two cohesive strophes separated by the seemingly random rhetorical question which forshadows the division, line by line, of the thrid strophe, is quite effective, but I wonder if dwindling concentration would not have been better illustrated by having a longer third stroph divided at increasing intervals to reflect the statement it makes.

The reference to Elymus is frankly baffling. "as rabid dogs or raging Elymus" is almost a nice pun on elymus caninus, a species of grass, but "Declaring himself God"? I'm afraid my classical education only admits to knowing that Elymus was a Trojan who was assisted by Aeneas to build a couple of settlements in Sicily. I can find no reference to delusions of divinity on his part.

I may be missing something, but I'm afraid this one doesn't quite work for me.

Live and be well - H

Thank you for reading Hawkman! The calculus mention was intended to be a mild satire of education--that in the most difficult, most exclusive math class offered in high school, it still cannot escape the banalities of high school conversation.

To clarify for both you and Hill, Elymus is a reference to Elymus Bar-Jesus, a false prophet who both declared himself son of God and acted in opposition to his Jewish faith. Although I didn't know elymus was a genus of grass, I did intend for it to be a Biblical allusion.

I tried to use the increasingly dwindling stanza size to parallel the difficulties in maintaining a coherent thought process amidst so much noise. Upon revising, I'll try your suggestion. Thank you for reading!

I get the message that the students in this class are more concerned with tittle-tattle than learning. But I have the same problem as Hawk :

This class does not teach calculus - why 'teach' rather than 'do' or 'promote' or 'encourage' ?

I assume 'voilate' should be 'violate'...

The reference to Elymus also leaves me as baffled as Hawk since I don't see how he (who?) fits into the metaphor of chaos overtaking the hallowed atmosphere of the study hall.

'abilities to function / are increasingly decreasing' was also rather a weak statement on which to end (although I'm tempted to applaud your use of the word 'function' with reference to 'calculus' if it was intentional).

I just felt the idea behind this - intertwining banal teen-chat with a vain yearning for more classic standards in education - was original but the execution fell short of expectation.

H

I tried to use the increasingly decreasing reference to refer to the nature of some second derivatives of functions, but because it had no context in the poem, I do agree that, in retrospect, I could have written a better ending.

Teach is meant to be a mild satire as well, as the class isn't "teaching" anything, regardless of the name of the course.

A more scathing attack on the students, which I'm suprised wasn't picked up on, was the "She has a C in this class?" remark, for as the class as failed to be instructional, how someone could get a C demonstrates a below-average education, on behalf of class and student. Thank you for reading Hill!

[Jerrybaldy]

I loved pens and pencils. I hate single threads. But I loved pens and pencils.

[IceM]

I loved pens and pencils. I hate single threads. But I loved pens and pencils.

Thank you for reading Jerry!

The following poem was inspired by my bus buddy.

Leaving Hart Park

She peered through the window with wonder;
the sunlight cast a speckled shade through the leaves,
reminiscient of Casy sitting beside the Tree.

Her soul has grown deep like the rivers,
experience gifting it many hues.

Her songs sing of cherubs, spanning everything
from Palestrina to Ellington. Her force--
part trumpet, part trombone,
part alto saxophone--
seizes me like a recessitator.

My memory, sculpted of marble with a faulty chisel--
eskewed lines, faulty designs--
for eons shall remember what I witnessed
when she peered through the window with wonder.

[hillwalker]

I love that term 'bus buddy' - it conjures up all sorts of images of innocent youth.

As for the poem - some of it did jar slightly, detracting from what is presumably intended as a tribute to a young girl you once admired:

Her force--
part trumpet, part trombone,
part alto saxophone--
seizes me like a recessitator[resuscitator?].

comparing a young girl's voice (?) to the sounds of a 'trumpet' was hardly flattering - and how can one be 'seized' by a resuscitator? ' revitalised' maybe.

Similarly I thought the ending fell rather flat

sculpted of marble with a faulty chisel--
eskewed [eschewed?] lines, faulty designs--
for eons shall remember what I witnessed

2 'faulty's in the space of 3 lines is careless - and although I understand what you were trying to convey I think it was done rather clumsily. If you are suggesting that your memory, distorted by the wear and tear of time's passage, will never fail to recall every detail of her expression I'm sure you can describe it much more elegantly.

H

[AuntShecky]

Subject matter, images, and allusions in the latest (# )
are promising.

I agree w. Hill's comment re your latest (# .) A suggestion to make the finished product seem so --not "prosaic" --but prose like. After writing a first draft, go back and strike out all the unnecessary verbiage. Condense and compress.

Even so, the subject matter, images, and allusions in the
are promising. (Anytime anybody mentions Ellington, I'm on board!)

[AuntShecky]

Subject matter, images, and allusions in the latest (# )
are promising.

I agree w. Hill's comment re your latest (# 25 .) A suggestion to make the finished product seem so --not "prosaic" --but prose like. After writing a first draft, go back and strike out all the unnecessary verbiage. Condense and compress.

Make sure your modifiers are close to the nouns they're supposed to describe. For instance, the position of the phrase "everything from Palestrina" (etc.) makes it seem
as if it's describing "cherubs" and not "songs."

Even so, the subject matter, images, and allusions in the
are promising. (Anytime anybody mentions Ellington, I'm on board!)

[deryk]

The Classroom

The drone of voices violate
our right to quiet, peaceful thought.
This class does not teach calculus

How could he wear that in public?

The conversation roars with foam,
as rabid dogs or raging Elymus
declaring himself God. With each
crescendo in volume

You have got to be a surgeon.

thought

I wouldn't mind trying that in college.

is blown

Are you getting an apartment?

out, out

They are so cute together!

until abilities to function

She has a C in this class?

are increasingly decreasing.

I once taught a Calculus class on a whim for a bit at the secondary level. I think you capture the frightening velocity at which problems in the class can accelerate.

[IceM]

I love that term 'bus buddy' - it conjures up all sorts of images of innocent youth.

As for the poem - some of it did jar slightly, detracting from what is presumably intended as a tribute to a young girl you once admired:

Her force--
part trumpet, part trombone,
part alto saxophone--
seizes me like a recessitator[resuscitator?].

comparing a young girl's voice (?) to the sounds of a 'trumpet' was hardly flattering - and how can one be 'seized' by a resuscitator? ' revitalised' maybe.

Similarly I thought the ending fell rather flat

sculpted of marble with a faulty chisel--
eskewed [eschewed?] lines, faulty designs--
for eons shall remember what I witnessed

2 'faulty's in the space of 3 lines is careless - and although I understand what you were trying to convey I think it was done rather clumsily. If you are suggesting that your memory, distorted by the wear and tear of time's passage, will never fail to recall every detail of her expression I'm sure you can describe it much more elegantly.

H

Thank you for reading Hillwalker! I agree, the ending needs retooling, I was in a rush to finish. In regards to likening her voice to a trumpet, my intention was to present her voice as a balanced whole--for if her voice were really a trombone, it'd be mightily deep. I tried to convey the "Ellington" sound as comparing her voice to a blend of instruments that has force, beauty and balance.

Our band leaves for Disneyland tonight. I'll have a revision, if you're interested, shown in the above post once I return.

Subject matter, images, and allusions in the latest (# )
are promising.

I agree w. Hill's comment re your latest (# 25 .) A suggestion to make the finished product seem so --not "prosaic" --but prose like. After writing a first draft, go back and strike out all the unnecessary verbiage. Condense and compress.

Make sure your modifiers are close to the nouns they're supposed to describe. For instance, the position of the phrase "everything from Palestrina" (etc.) makes it seem
as if it's describing "cherubs" and not "songs."

Even so, the subject matter, images, and allusions in the
are promising. (Anytime anybody mentions Ellington, I'm on board!)

Thank you for reading Shecky! I'll make sure to pay closer to attention to the connections between each word. This sonnet, inspired by the girl I sat next to (I wrote it the same day of the trip, which was, I can't remember, a week ago?) was inspired by Borges's style. I'll fix it up.

I once taught a Calculus class on a whim for a bit at the secondary level. I think you capture the frightening velocity at which problems in the class can accelerate.

Thank you for reading. I appreciate your input.

Graduation

The man of iron-plated heart
showed signes of rust, when,
as maroon caps and tassels were thrown above,
he shed a tear.