I Take To The Winter At 8 O'Clock

[jon1jt]

I take to the winter at 8 o'clock.
It's the cold, cold that sets in somewhere
so deep as inside the earth.
The dust in a sunbeam fades to it.
Air so cold it curls on my lip.
It's all god's language
far from adjectives and nouns.
I fly from one moon to another,
a night heron lace-winged, symptom of.
Withered, distracted, hand-drawn.

A shard is to water, snow
the scraping of light.
Ice is to moaning, the sidewalks
beneath white, groaning.
The branches dead hang like claws

My dream the night before
about leaving the window open
to liberate unconsciousness.
I'm an old ghost, untied,
tumbling over cluttered bodies,
the hidden emotions in a suitcase.
I wring out my wet gloves,
here the river of my poetry.

"Take me back to our days," says my
first girlfriend. "Leave your window open
for one hundred mornings there's no telling."
This woman large with a child.
I thought if I could somehow have just followed her.
To imagine natal love.

[Pretty^Athens]

love it... it's well expressed, love your ideas and vocabulary. well done!

[TheFifthElement]

Jon, Jon, Jon - stop changing it!!! I printed off the second version and took it to the library with me today to read in peace and quiet, and in between you've changed it again! Help!

The first stanza is great, really rich with very tangible images, the cold, the moon, the heron all create the mood, like the quiet hush of snow and empty streets. I can visualise it. I love these lines :


The dust in a sunbeam fades to it.
Air so cold it curls on my lip.
It's all god's language
far from adjectives and nouns.

I don't like what you've done with the second stanza. I preferred the second version which you've replaced here. Your previous version which goes :


A shard is to water, snow
the scraping of light.
Ice is to moaning, the sidewalks
beneath white, groaning.
The branches dead hang like claws

was much more evocative, in my opinion.

In the third stanza, I love these lines :


I'm an old ghost, untied,
tumbling over cluttered bodies,
old friends and lovers,
the hidden emotions in a suitcase.
I wring out my wet gloves,
here the river of my poetry.

though again the line 'old friends and lovers' which wasn't in the version I printed (grrr!) I don't think adds anything, or rather the poem isn't lost without it.

This :


"Take me back to our days," says my
first girlfriend. "Leave your window open
for one hundred mornings there's no telling."
This woman large with a child.
I thought if I could somehow have just followed her.
To imagine natal love.

I love for its human quality, juxtaposed against the sparseness of the cold, winter night of the earlier part of the poem makes it more poinant, I think.

[ampoule]

Grrrr...I'm with you Fifth. I wish that when people make changes they would just repost their poem further on down and leave the original so we can compare, unless, of course, it's just things like spelling corrections.
Jon, I would like a copy of the original, all that moaning and the groaning sidewalks. Sounds like winter here, fer sure.

[AuntShecky]

Of all of your postings I've seen on the forum,I think I like this piece the best -- "God's language" in association w.
weather is a beautifully-apt metaphor.

The line breaks are appropriate.

This piece seems more gracefully "effortless" than some of your other pieces, albeit they were just as earnest.

I loved everything in this, but I think the piece would be
stronger if it ends at the line "the river of my poetry."

The concluding portion, "Take me back to the old days," could be a separate piece.

Again, I loved all of it.

[jon1jt]

fifth/ampoule: :lol: :lol: oops, sorry for the editing! This is one that I edited heavily, all online last night. I restored the original stanza, I kept going back and forth about it...I was just getting too tired, I suppose. Anyway, thanks a bunch for being patient, and I'll read your comments again to see if there is anything else. Thanks

Thanks Shecky, I appreciate that. I will read it over a few times re the last stanza and see the deal. Thanks

[dibyendra]

I really loved the way you expressed in this poem Jon which are quite evocative! The first stanza is gracefully presented. The line in the first stanza "It's all god's language" is so great. Second stanza is well described about the winter night. The ending of second stanza "The branches dead hang like claws" is strong which itself gives us visual representation. Well portrayed Jon! The third stanza is so nice Jon. I also found a blend of poignant and nostalgic memories when I reached to last stanza. I feel that the last stanza has strong feeling attached. This line "Take me back to our days," says my first girlfriend." is really moving Jon. I loved this poem very much ! Keep up your good work !

[Scube]

I felt it, lived it. Very nice.

[jon1jt]

I loved everything in this, but I think the piece would be stronger if it ends at the line "the river of my poetry."
The concluding portion, "Take me back to the old days," could be a separate piece.

Again, I loved all of it.

Sheck, I was just wondering, you haven't been talking to Virge lately, have you? Because he keeps wanting me to cut the endings of my poems. Each stanza, each line, is like a little baby, we must protect them. :p

[NikolaiI]

Very nice, Jon :)

[virtuoso]

I have a few lines that are not succinct or aptly expressed for my taste. The first stanza of the poem would better be stated, I plunge into winter at 8' o clock/It's the cold that settles somewhere/deep inside the dark layers/Dust specks ride a sunbeam over it/ As the frosty air curls on my lips/ A divine language swirls above me/ bereft of adjectives, adverbs/ I teleport from one star to the next/ Night heron with rippled wings/ Neon signs: withered, truncated, short hand.

On the last stanza of the poem, it could be better stated, Return says my first love/ Leave your window open/ until eight months have matured(pregnant woman has large stomach at this stage)/ A healthy child behold/ but the compressed moments,/once again, flutter through my subconscious.