Another Year. comments?

[SleepyWitch]

here's a new poem. please be cruel and prune my clichés :) THANKS





Once more the sunless undistinguished soup
envelops our little world
hightstreet - library - café
the scenes of greetless meetings.
Why bother with hellos and byes
when today's two minutes blend in
with last month's five without a seam?
unbroken mist descending,
or is the earth itself dissolving, rising up?
Another winter crowds out unnoticed
the memory of brain-searing summer skies.
How long? I've never counted.

Your lips make fog in the street,
another exchange of tacit mirages.
Glimpse of teeth.
And my eyes fast-forward our collected works,
the still-born words of a dozen years
that fall like ghost-hands on our windows,
co-authors of silence, they accuse us in vain.

The chestnut has prepared to sleep
and strewn its glossy auburn young,
polished, mute and puppy-eyed.
These are magical conkers, you know,
they won't complain or contradict.
They listen. Faithful, smooth but cool.
Another gift I never gave you.
Keep one in your pocket and think of me.
I'm perfect for you in silence.

A solitary crystal steams in my hand
as you trot along, black in your coat
like the cherry tree stripped and raw.
Your charred twigs finger the mist,
reaching for uncharted kingdoms.
And I like you best in winter,
cracked up and sore with idealist dreams.

In their little concrete square,
the iced-in gold fish chase their bubbles.
Red, not gold. Japanese sun.
Unaware of the season's change
they scoot between mouldering reeds.
I fume damp smoke at the novel writer,
because I saw them first
and loiter to show them to you.
Funny.
You'd understand
another dialogue that will self-destruct
in two seconds.

But the tree that blooms in December
will cripple in May.
So we wait for another year.
How long?

[blazeofglory]

here's a new poem. please be cruel and prune my clichés :) THANKS






Once more the sun-less undistinguished soup
envelops our little world
hightstreet - library - café
the scenes of greetless meetings.
Why bother with hellos and byes
when today's two minutes blend in
with last month's five without a seam?
Descending down,
or rising up, ungradual?
Another winter crowds out unnoticed
the memory of brain-searing summer skies.
How long? I never counted.

Your lips make fog in the street,
another exchange of tacit illusions.
Glimpse of teeth.
And my eyes fast-forward our collected works,
the still-born words of a dozen years
that fall like ghost-hands on our windows,
co-authors of silence, they accuse us in vain.

The chestnut has prepared to sleep
and strewn its glossy auburn young,
polished, mute and puppy-eyed.
These are magical conkers, you know,
they won't complain or contradict.
They listen. Faithful, smooth but cool.
Another gift I never gave you.
Keep one in your pocket and think of me.
I'm perfect for you in silence.

A solitary crystal steams in my hand
as you trot along, black in your coat
like the cherry tree stripped and raw.
Your charred twigs finger the mist,
reaching for uncharted kingdoms.
And I like you best in winter,
cracked up and sore with idealist dreams.

In their little concrete square,
the iced-in gold fish chase their bubbles.
Red, not gold. Japanese sun.
Unaware of the season's change
they scoot between mouldering reeds.
I fume damp smoke at the novel writer,
because I saw them first
and loiter to show them to you.
Funny.
You'd understand
another dialogue that will self-destruct
in two seconds.

But the tree that blooms in December
will cripple in May.
So we wait for another year.
How long?

Days follow days
Years follow years
That is how we get older and older
day by day and year by

But think nothing happens and everything standing still
Seasons of course coming to a halt with its wheel getting stuck to a particular moment.

You will be fed up with your youthfulness
You will not like to see your rosy cheeks
Everything is beautiful when it is briefly seen
And after a certain hour everything will lose its sheen

Life is like a running river
It is not a stagnant pool
If we do not stream ourselves with time
We wil never animate ourselves to feel cool

If no death happens you will be tired of life
For it is death indeed that makes us wish for immortality,
Without it we will feel lifeboat becomes windy and strife.

Another year is something that vitalizes our move
Otherwise, all our meanings of living life will remove
For life is indistinguishable from change
We will have to flow with time
Of course in this process yesterdays
with marrows make life's exchange.

[SleepyWitch]

thanks, blaze. is that a poem by you? I like it. but the main theme of mine isn't so much the time-thingy as the characters' relationship (or lack of one). I hope I got that across?

edit: I've changed 'illusions' to 'mirrages' in the second line of the second stanza. which one sounds better?

[CdnReader]

I love this section, Sleepy. Well done! :)



And my eyes fast-forward our collected works,
the still-born words of a dozen years
that fall like ghost-hands on our windows,
co-authors of silence, they accuse us in vain.

[SleepyWitch]

I love this section, Sleepy. Well done! :)

thanks Cdn! :)
what do you think the poem is about? just curious, coz blaze brought up the time/death issue (which I didn't intend it to be about, but if that's what readers think I'll have to change it).

[Lote-Tree]

I like this poem Sleepy. To me it is meditative. But I did not get that "Once more the sun-less undistinguished soup
envelops our little world"...the soup bit...

[SleepyWitch]

I like this poem Sleepy. To me it is meditative. But I did not get that "Once more the sun-less undistinguished soup
envelops our little world"...the soup bit...

thanks Lote... hm.. right, that might be mother-tongue interference on my part. i was thinking of cold white winter air/sky/fog that's got no blue and cloudy bits in it... what would you call it?

[CdnReader]

thanks Cdn! :)
what do you think the poem is about? just curious, coz blaze brought up the time/death issue (which I didn't intend it to be about, but if that's what readers think I'll have to change it).

Seems to me that it's about a relationship that never quite makes it to fruition.... time passes, opportunities are lost.... and how long will it be before one or the other is courageous enough to take the next step....?

[SleepyWitch]

Seems to me that it's about a relationship that never quite makes it to fruition.... time passes, opportunities are lost.... and how long will it be before one or the other is courageous enough to take the next step....?

:D I have not succeeded in confusing you with seasons imagery then :) thanks :)

[Lote-Tree]

thanks Lote... hm.. right, that might be mother-tongue interference on my part. i was thinking of cold white winter air/sky/fog that's got no blue and cloudy bits in it... what would you call it?

Ah I see :D

I never heard it be being described thus. So definiately not a cliche :D

[blazeofglory]

thanks, blaze. is that a poem by you? I like it. but the main theme of mine isn't so much the time-thingy as the characters' relationship (or lack of one). I hope I got that across?

edit: I've changed 'illusions' to 'mirrages' in the second line of the second stanza. which one sounds better?

Mine is not a poem actually speaking, it sprang up. Of course yours is a beautiful poem and there are really deeper things and indeed many dimensional things and all I touched, I believe I did, is one dimension only.

[barbara0207]

I like your imagery, Sleepy. Very imaginative. And, being German, I had no problem with the "soup". :D

Seriously, I got the impression that this relationship hasn't got much of a chance - it seems that both partners have got used to each other like an old married couple that just stays together because neither can imagine living without the other. They don't have much to say to each other, they don't enjoy each other, just live side by side. If that poem is about a young couple the relationship hasn't a snowball's chance in hell.

Hope it's not your present relationship. :)

[SleepyWitch]

I like your imagery, Sleepy. Very imaginative. And, being German, I had no problem with the "soup". :D
thanks :)



Hope it's not your present relationship. :)
nope :) no way! my hubby and me are not like this at all. most of my poems are about totally imaginary things (most of the time they are about real people, but about things that never happened). heehee, i'm not making myself particularly clear :)

[barbara0207]

I think I see what you mean. That's mostly the way I write.

Have you got a title yet?

[SleepyWitch]

Have you got a title yet?
nope. any suggestions?

hey, what would be the point in writing about my own relationship anyway? that would turn out totally mundane and unromantic. our boring married-couple life is nice enough for the two of us, but it would bore everyone to death :D

[RPMI]

Hey, i'm not very good at writing poetry or anything... Although i do try :D
I was thinking, why don't you name your poem something related to its theme; this would give people an idea towards what it's about.

I really enjoyed reading that, it was interesting. :thumbs_up

[SleepyWitch]

Hey, i'm not very good at writing poetry or anything... Although i do try
I was thinking, why don't you name your poem something related to its theme; this would give people an idea towards what it's about.
thanks for your suggestion RPMI. that's a very good idea, only I suck at titles :)

[Sweets America]

This poem is absolutely wonderful!!! :banana: :banana: :banana:
I would need to read it several times more and search some vocabulary, to grasp it more deeply, but I just love it! One of the most wonderful poems I have read here!

[SleepyWitch]

This poem is absolutely wonderful!!! :banana: :banana: :banana:
I would need to read it several times more and search some vocabulary, to grasp it more deeply, but I just love it! One of the most wonderful poems I have read here!

wow! I'm humbled :blush: are you sure you are talking about mine?

by the way, I like your poems a lot. do you want feedback on them or are they for the Prince's eyes only? :)

[Virgil]

Sleepy, this is very good. I found it a bit unpenetrable at first, (that's why I didn't respond until now) but with several readings, I think I get it and find it very original. You should have submtted this in the August poetry contest that is going on this month, and which I don't think you have voted yet (hint, hint ;) ) What can I say, so many original lines in your poem. Let me highlight a few:

Once more the sun-less undistinguished soup
envelops our little world
hightstreet - library - café
the scenes of greetless meetings.
Why bother with hellos and byes
when today's two minutes blend in
with last month's five without a seam?
Two minutes blending with five of last month. Excellent! And the tone of that openning is perfect.


Your lips make fog in the street,
another exchange of tacit mirages.
Glimpse of teeth.
And my eyes fast-forward our collected works,
the still-born words of a dozen years
that fall like ghost-hands on our windows,
co-authors of silence, they accuse us in vain.
I'm not sure I still understand what that's alluding to, but I just love the way you state that. :)


The chestnut has prepared to sleep
and strewn its glossy auburn young,
polished, mute and puppy-eyed.
These are magical conkers, you know,
they won't complain or contradict.
They listen. Faithful, smooth but cool.
How imaginative!


A solitary crystal steams in my hand
as you trot along, black in your coat
like the cherry tree stripped and raw.
"black in your coat" is great imagery and then the simile is fantastic!


But the tree that blooms in December
will cripple in May.
So we wait for another year.
How long?
Fabulous ending. Perfect control of tone. "Cripple" is one heck of a verb to use here. I'm in awe.

Some minor criticisms that you might think about or ask others if they feel the same as me. "Descending down,/or rising up, ungradual?" I don't think there is a word "ungradual". Or if there is, it strikes me as awkward.


Another winter crowds out unnoticed
the memory of brain-searing summer skies.
How long? I never counted.
Do you mean, "I have never counted?" The tense seems like it should be present perfect, or whatever that is. I'm forgetting my grammar in my old age. ;)


Another gift I never gave you.
Keep one in your pocket and think of me.
I'm perfect for you in silence.
That strikes me as contradictory. A gift you never gave, but then you tell him to put it in his pocket. Isn't that giving it to him? Or am I misreading that?


Your charred twigs finger the mist,
reaching for uncharted kingdoms.
I know you've reached for some great language and imagery in here, but I think this one is an over reach. How can twigs finger the mist? It has to make sense. If you can think of a sense that that would be true, then keep it. But otherwise it seems wrong.

Let me end with my favorite couplet:

And I like you best in winter,
cracked up and sore with idealist dreams.
I just love that!!!:thumbs_up Outstanding, Sleepy. You are getting to be quite a poet.

[SleepyWitch]

ooooohoooohoooo, Uncle Virgil likes my poem! I have to go to bed now but I'll come back to morrow to lavish thanks on you and respond to your comments.

[Sweets America]

wow! I'm humbled :blush: are you sure you are talking about mine?

by the way, I like your poems a lot. do you want feedback on them or are they for the Prince's eyes only? :)

Yes yes, I am really talking about your poem, ehehe. ;) It just struck me, it is very beautifully written, and I was trying, some minutes ago, to explain to Prince why I loved it but I just cannot find the words!

Oh, about my poems, thanks for your nice comment. Oh God yes of course I would like having feedback from people. A lot of my poems are dedicated to Prince but anyone can criticize them, of course, and I will be happy to read any kind of comment. I was a little disappointed to see that my last one had a lot of views and only one response, from my lover. Prince might not want to criticize my poems because they are a testimony of my love for him, but anyone who is outside our relationship can comment my poems as they comment the others.:)

[SleepyWitch]

Fabulous ending. Perfect control of tone. "Cripple" is one heck of a verb to use here. I'm in awe.
really? wow, that's a relief. i was unhappy with the ending. i thought it would be lame and another one of my stick-the-tail-on-the-donkey endings.




That strikes me as contradictory. A gift you never gave, but then you tell him to put it in his pocket. Isn't that giving it to him? Or am I misreading that?
yep I see what you mean.. well, I want the girl to imagine she's say this to him if she ever gave him the chestnut. would it help if I put it in italics? like this:
Another gift I never gave you.
Keep one in your pocket and think of me.
I'm perfect for you in silence.




Let me end with my favorite couplet:


And I like you best in winter,
cracked up and sore with idealist dreams.
I just love that!!!:thumbs_up Outstanding, Sleepy. You are getting to be quite a poet.
heehee, why are they your fave lines? because you are a realist and can't help gloating about the poor idealist guy? come on, the poor man's got issues, how can you be so mean? :D JOKING

thanks for your comments. I'll think about the lines you didn't like so much.

[Virgil]

yep I see what you mean.. well, I want the girl to imagine she's say this to him if she ever gave him the chestnut. would it help if I put it in italics? like this:
Another gift I never gave you.
Keep one in your pocket and think of me.
I'm perfect for you in silence.


Oh I see. Might be tricky to get that across. It might work, the way yous uggest, but I would have to see.

[SleepyWitch]

http://sophos1.net/images/chestnut.jpg

*shameless pushing-up of thread* heeheehee

[Countess]

Once more the sun-less undistinguished soup
envelops our little world


Indistinguished or Un? Un is fine-use your
poetic license where ye may; it's still legal,
but wanted to point it out.

I love this poem (That sounds like
carte blanche blandishment, but I am sincere).
- subtext is everything, is it not?
I appreciate the way you work nature's moods as
symbols of your own unspoken conversation,
summits and nadirs in your meets and greets,
which say nothing and everything simultaneously.

Well done! You should really look at submitting this,
Sleepywitch. It's that good - but then again,
I am no one. Still, others think well of it.

How about it?

[SleepyWitch]

Indistinguished or Un? Un is fine-use your
poetic license where ye may; it's still legal,
but wanted to point it out.

I love this poem (That sounds like
carte blanche blandishment, but I am sincere).
- subtext is everything, is it not?
I appreciate the way you work nature's moods as
symbols of your own unspoken conversation,
summits and nadirs in your meets and greets,
which say nothing and everything simultaneously.

Well done! You should really look at submitting this,
Sleepywitch. It's that good - but then again,
I am no one. Still, others think well of it.

How about it?

thanks Countess :) yeah, probably it should be indistinguished
er, submitting it to where/what?

[alexsears]

i get slepy from reading so i didn't :yawnb: :lol: :yawnb:

[SleepyWitch]

i get slepy from reading so i didn't :yawnb: :lol: :yawnb:

I am Sleepy, whether I read or not :D

[Countess]

Sleepy - to a poetry contest. I'm shamefully ignorant in this area because I can't handle rejection.

[SleepyWitch]

Sleepy - to a poetry contest. I'm shamefully ignorant in this area because I can't handle rejection.

ok :) hehe, maybe I'll do some research about that when I've got more time on my hands. I don't think it's stand a chance, though.

[SleepyWitch]

hey guys,
I've made some preliminary changes to the first stanza. is it better now?
(hey this is a first, I've actually done some serious editing... *lazy*)



Once more the sunless undistinguished soup
envelops our little world
hightstreet - library - café
the scenes of greetless meetings.
Why bother with hellos and byes
when today's two minutes blend in
with last month's five without a seam?
unbroken mist descending,
or is the earth itself dissolving, rising up?
Another winter crowds out, unnoticed,
the memory of brain-searing summer skies.
How long? I've never counted.

Your lips make fog in the street,
another exchange of tacit mirages.
Glimpse of teeth.
And my eyes fast-forward our collected works,
the still-born words of a dozen years
that fall like ghost-hands on our windows,
co-authors of silence, they accuse us in vain.

The chestnut has prepared to sleep
and strewn its glossy auburn young,
polished, mute and puppy-eyed.
These are magical conkers, you know,
they won't complain or contradict.
They listen. Faithful, smooth but cool.
Another gift I never gave you.
Keep one in your pocket and think of me.
I'm perfect for you in silence.

A solitary crystal steams in my hand
as you trot along, black in your coat
like the cherry tree stripped and raw.
Your charred twigs finger the mist,
reaching for uncharted kingdoms.
And I like you best in winter,
cracked up and sore with idealist dreams.

In their little concrete square,
the iced-in gold fish chase their bubbles.
Red, not gold. Japanese sun.
Unaware of the season's change
they scoot between mouldering reeds.
I fume damp smoke at the novel writer,
because I saw them first
and loiter to show them to you.
Funny.
You'd understand
another dialogue that will self-destruct
in two seconds.

But the tree that blooms in December
will cripple in May.
So we wait for another year.
How long?

[barbara0207]

This is certainly a great improvement, Sleepy, it sounds more elegant and makes the meaning clearer.

Only one little thing I'm not quite sure about: don't "descending down" and "rising up" sound tautological? While I could live with "up", I don't like "down" at all. But let's see what the native speakers say. :)

BTW, have you thought about the question of tenses Virgil pointed out (past versus present perfect with "never")? Do you see a difference in meaning?

Anyway, great poem, Sleepy. I love it. :thumbs_up

[jon1jt]

For some reason I had a tough time focusing reading this one. At first I thought it was just me, then I read it again and by the third paragraph I began to wonder if it's too dense, almost as if you're overextending the imagery or description from top to bottom. Example, from the get go:


Once more the sun-less undistinguished soup

I don't know what to make of this 'sun-less undistinguished soup,' it's unintelligle, and the hyphenation equally confounds me, I'm lost for function here.


envelops our little world
hightstreet - library - café
the scenes of greetless meetings.
Why bother with hellos and byes
when today's two minutes blend in
with last month's five without a seam?

I like the linking 'without a seam'


Descending down,
or rising up, ungradual?

But I'm back to confusion with these directions. Are you describing the hustle and bustle of this little world? I'm pretty lost.


Another winter crowds out unnoticed
the memory of brain-searing summer skies.
How long? I never counted.

They're out unnoticed? By whom, each other?? Do you mean 'how long is the memory? ???????

And I go on and see the chestnut as...'puppy-eyed.' Um...

Sleepy, I'm going to read this again when I'm fresh.

[PrinceMyshkin]

For some reason I had a tough time focusing reading this one. At first I thought it was just me, then I read it again and by the third paragraph I began to wonder if it's too dense, almost as if you're overextending the imagery or description from top to bottom. Example, from the get go:


I don't know what to make of this 'sun-less undistinguished soup,'

It might be interesting if some psychologist with a literary bent did a study on what determines intelligibility to individual readers. I for one find it very difficult to make head or tail of most of your poetry, whereas



Once more the sun-less undistinguished soup

seems transparent to me. It could be, here, that as a Canadian I'm more familiar with British idioms, and "pea-souper" as a term for an especially foggy day is readily available to me, and "sun-less" translates effortlessly into "sunless," the hyphen - which I myself would do without - is no impediment.

[crazefest456]

Once more the sun-less undistinguished soup
envelops our little world
hightstreet - library - café
the scenes of greetless meetings.


I thought the soup was the atmosphere (insincere, superficial attitudes in such settings)...


I loved the poem, sleepy :thumbs_up

[jon1jt]

It might be interesting if some psychologist with a literary bent did a study on what determines intelligibility to individual readers. I for one find it very difficult to make head or tail of most of your poetry, whereas



seems transparent to me. It could be, here, that as a Canadian I'm more familiar with British idioms, and "pea-souper" as a term for an especially foggy day is readily available to me, and "sun-less" translates effortlessly into "sunless," the hyphen - which I myself would do without - is no impediment.


Prince, I thought we resolved our differences in our PM, we wouldn't speak to one another if we didn't have anything nice to say, remember?? Apparently not.

Prince, you know what, I don't ask you to read my poetry. My poetry writing is EXACTLY on the course I want it to be, worry about your own and leave me alone.

And if my reading of her poem was partly the result of my lack of knowledge of British idioms, okay, then that's the reason. And I don't care what your bent on sun-less is, I couldn't make it out in context, I was just being honest.

Get over it, Prince.

[SleepyWitch]

Another winter crowds out unnoticed
the memory of brain-searing summer skies.
How long? I never counted.
They're out unnoticed? By whom, each other?? Do you mean 'how long is the memory? ???????

oops, sorry if these lines sound confusing. I meant the phrasal verb "to crowd out"

crowd somebody/something ↔ out phrasal verb
to force someone or something out of a place or situation:
i.e. the winter forces out the memory of summer. I didn't mean the noun (=lots of people)

about the "soup", you are right there, it's a bit daring. what I had in mind was a German idiom in fact, not a British one, but I relied on people to get it... I'll change it once I can think of a better word.

stop arguing you two (jon and Prince)!


This is certainly a great improvement, Sleepy, it sounds more elegant and makes the meaning clearer.

Only one little thing I'm not quite sure about: don't "descending down" and "rising up" sound tautological? While I could live with "up", I don't like "down" at all. But let's see what the native speakers say. :)

BTW, have you thought about the question of tenses Virgil pointed out (past versus present perfect with "never")? Do you see a difference in meaning?

Anyway, great poem, Sleepy. I love it. :thumbs_up
hey barbara, I've dumped the 'down' and changed the past tense to present perfect :)

[jon1jt]

oops, sorry if these lines sound confusing. I meant the phrasal verb "to crowd out"

i.e. the winter forces out the memory of summer. I didn't mean the noun (=lots of people)

about the "soup", you are right there, it's a bit daring. what I had in mind was a German idiom in fact, not a British one, but I relied on people to get it... I'll change it once I can think of a better word.

stop arguing you two (jon and Prince)!


Ahh, okay, so it's a German idiom, got it. I'm just unfamiliar with German and British idioms, that's the problem.

As far as Prince, I told him in a PM that we wouldn't talk to one another if we didn't have anything nice to say. So there he goes tonight, of all things, insulting MY POETRY in YOUR thread! :confused: Anyway...

I'll read your poem again tomorrow when I've had a good night's sleep. Now I feel :yawnb:

see ya.

[SleepyWitch]

Ahh, okay, so it's a German idiom, got it. I'm just unfamiliar with German and British idioms, that's the problem.

yep, as I said, that's my fault in this case (soup) and I've been thinking about how to change it. hahahhahah, believe me, if I tried to write in American idioms, my poems would be much more confusing because I'm totally unfamiliar with American ones :lol: I'd make a complete mess of them



edit: now let's all hug each other and sing the smurf song. Prince, if you want to criticize jons poems please do it in his thread. by the way, you know more about me than jon does, it's probably easier for you to understand my poems. for one thing, you probably know who/what this poem is about (yeeeees, the one and only Mr Crush once again, aren't we sick of him?), so that should make it a bit easier.
jon, feel free to find my poem as weird or bad or impenetrable as you want, but please stop bringing up this issue with Prince again and a again (NOPE, I don't want to know who STARTED it. If you don't STOP it, I'll spank both of you :D joking). I think you're both kinda stubborn and this won't take us anywhere.
THANKS :)

[jon1jt]

yep, as I said, that's my fault in this case (soup) and I've been thinking about how to change it. hahahhahah, believe me, if I tried to write in American idioms, my poems would be much more confusing because I'm totally unfamiliar with American ones :lol: I'd make a complete mess of them


Is it a good soup? I love soup, you know. :p

[SleepyWitch]

They're out unnoticed? By whom, each other?? Do you mean 'how long is the memory? ???????

nope, I mean how many times has there been another winter (another year gone by) without anything happening.