When the Levee Breaks

[TheFifthElement]

When the Levee Breaks

I

Fingers pressed against the windowpane;
sliding in, sliding in condensation
thick dripping down the walls.
This is night
endlessly in heat,
immersed in amber shadows,
waiting for a storm.
He watches from a corner
as she flows around the room,
melting slowly, nakedly fluid.
She is not flesh but honey,
sweet on his tongue
and he is greedy,
coming back time and again
to gorge himself
with sorrowful eyes,
never satisfied.


II

Indistinct vibrations
pulse through opaque air;
music, and the sound of
a storm breaking in the distance.
Sightless creatures
writhe like snakes
intoxicated by their blindness.
There are no voices,
no bodies, just hands
and the impression of arms,
warm, wet skin electrically charged.
Lightning forms,
passes from limb to limb
burning, seeking ground.
There is no respite from this storm,
it circles the room on a loop
as endless as night.

[jon1jt]

How can I not recognize one of my favorite Led Zeppelin tunes with the same title...ahem...from Led Zep IV (!):


When The Levee Breaks
If it keeps on rainin, levees goin to break,
If it keeps on rainin, levees goin to break,
When the levee breaks Ill have no place to stay.
Mean old levee taught me to weep and moan,
Lord, mean old levee taught me to weep and moan,
Got what it takes to make a mountain man leave his home,
Oh, well, oh, well, oh, well.
Dont it make you feel bad
When youre tryin to find your way home,
You dont know which way to go?
If youre goin down south
They go no work to do,
If you dont know about Chicago.
Cryin wont help you, prayin wont do you no good,
Now, cryin wont help you, prayin wont do you no good,
When the levee breaks, mama, you got to move.
All last night sat on the levee and moaned,
All last night sat on the levee and moaned,
Thinkin bout me baby and my happy home.
Going, gon to chicago,
Gon to chicago,
Sorry but I cant take you.
Going down, going down now, going down.

If there's one parallel I can make it's the matter of circumstance the speakers of each find themselves. There's something external feeding the internal experience, the want of release, the natural occurrence, being caught in the whirlwind between stagnancy and stepping out, breaking out...


Now, cryin wont help you, prayin wont do you no good,
When the levee breaks, mama, you got to move.

And reading your poem, that's exactly what we have in your poem, the logical outcome. When the mind breaks, the body moves, one with the other.

Aesthetically the center margin-arrangement distracted me. If there was a purpose for the shapes I'm completely missing it. It's preference. Okay...

I love the first part, Fifth, the second part, honestly, goes a bit too abstract for me and peters out...the erotic lights dimming at the ripe time I was feeling a rush for crescendo. In the second half, I also sense you balked, in the sense you draw back the curtain on the unfolding imagery. Sigh.

I think this stroph is a bit overextended.


There are no voices,
no bodies, just hands
and the impression of arms,
warm, wet skin electrically charged.
Lightning forms,
passes from limb to limb
burning, seeking ground.

I sense the burning, electric early on, (!) so you don't even have to go there.

Let me get to the stuff of poetry:


Fingers pressed against the windowpane;
sliding in, sliding in condensation

I've played with similar images, but those lines are kicking a**! Fifth, that is simply amazing, brilliant, I love it, wow.

Same with these:

She is not flesh but honey,
sweet on his tongue


and he is greedy,
coming back time and again
to gorge himself

Incredibly sexy, poetically so. :p

[TheFifthElement]

Of course you know my thinking with this one Jon! Yes, I am dissatisfied with it, perhaps because I was still writing at 1am, perhaps because I had hoped that by getting it out the song would be purged from my system, but then I woke this morning and my first thought was "mean old levee...".

There are a few issues I think. When I was writing I didn't necessarily want to make the poem overly erotic, but then with the first part there seemed no other way, and attempts to tone it down failed - it was un-tonedownable (if there's such a word!). Having set the tone I think I should have just gone with it, but you're right I drew back the curtains and moved into the sensational, rather than the erotic. I don't think that worked particularly well. It also made it difficult to maintain a link between the first section and the second, hence the break. Again with the theme I think it needs to flow, like the river, something else to work out.

So, a slightly different tactic, I think. Instead of purging, immersion is required. Is it possible to OD on a song? I'm about to find out :p

[firefangled]

Very well done, Fifth. Indeed, a very sexy image.

I see Jon has already mentioned Led Zeppelin's levee. One of the best levee songs ever.

and..."had six feet of water in the streets of Evangeline..." Louisianna 1927

[symphony]

My! How can u people turn out with gems like this? :D

[PrinceMyshkin]

It so often seems as if your poems have been given to you whole and that you have not had to labour over them? Notwithstanding the marvellous unity of this I was especially take by:


d.
She is not flesh but honey,
sweet on his tongue
and he is greedy,
coming back time and again
to gorge himself
with sorrowful eyes,
never satisfied.

and


Sightless creatures
writhe like snakes
intoxicated by their blindness.

Thank you (or convey my thanks to your muse!).

[TheFifthElement]

Thanks firefangled, symphony and Jerry. I'm still not happy with this, but your comments are heartening :)

[AuntShecky]

Did you see the miniseries with a similar title by Spike Lee? (I think it was called "When the Levees Broke"?) That was some documentary -- informative, provocative, funny as hell, and poignant all at the same time.
I found your piece also to be provocative and replete with
sensuous imagery. The problem may be with yours truly, but I am stuck on the image of the snakes "intoxicated by blindness." One would think it would be the other way around, or perhaps this was intentional. In any event, your piece was pleasing to the eye and ear.

[PrinceMyshkin]

I found your piece also to be provocative and replete with sensuous imagery. The problem may be with yours truly, but I am stuck on the image of the snakes "intoxicated by blindness." One would think it would be the other way around, or perhaps this was intentional. In any event, your piece was pleasing to the eye and ear.

Neither do I quite get that image but there are funds of trust and/or mistrust built up within a poem or by previous poems one has read by the same writers. Because of the brilliance and the trustworthiness of the5th's use of imagery in general, I am prepared to ponder this image, hazard a guess at its meaning and if I cannot come up with one, move on; whereas there may be other writers whose use of language or imagery seems so murky, so willfully obscure, that I'd get stuck, in their case, on e.g. "Gather ye rosebuds while ye may"

PS Any of you who read the poem & Aunty and my comments on that image in particular care to offer your conjectures?

[TheFifthElement]

he he he, perhaps the matter can be solved by the addition of a simple comma? Damn my state school education!


Sightless creatures
writhe like snakes,
intoxicated by their blindness

it is the 'sightless creature' intoxicated by their blindness. Think basement hippy joint, thick smoky(?) air, pulsating music, people dancing, unihibited without the sobering influence of seeing who they're dancing with, and you're there with me ;)

[thechampion]

the only part i truly love is ... just hands and the impression of arms. the rest is good but the rhythm there just really really good. fair otherwise, not very affecting.

[TheFifthElement]

Thanks for reading Champ!

[thechampion]

that part pretty much saves the entire poem for me too. such good rhythm.

[jon1jt]

I didn't know poems are broken into parts...I learned something new today. :)

[Pendragon]

When the Levee Breaks

I

Fingers pressed against the windowpane;
sliding in, sliding in condensation
thick dripping down the walls.
This is night
endlessly in heat,
immersed in amber shadows,
waiting for a storm.
He watches from a corner
as she flows around the room,
melting slowly, nakedly fluid.
She is not flesh but honey,
sweet on his tongue
and he is greedy,
coming back time and again
to gorge himself
with sorrowful eyes,
never satisfied.


II

Indistinct vibrations
pulse through opaque air;
music, and the sound of
a storm breaking in the distance.
Sightless creatures
writhe like snakes
intoxicated by their blindness.
There are no voices,
no bodies, just hands
and the impression of arms,
warm, wet skin electrically charged.
Lightning forms,
passes from limb to limb
burning, seeking ground.
There is no respite from this storm,
it circles the room on a loop
as endless as night.





I loved this one. A broken pylon that actually isn't. You have a way with words, Fifth, toying the the erotic and exotic without ever crossing the line of a poem that could be read almost anywhere. I have seen people start with the honey and sweetness and then degrade into a line of British slang terms as if they are less naughty than others or less recognizable in today's world. Even my beloved Eagles had in one of their songs "Frail Grasp on the Big Picture", "How many times can you tell your story? How many hangovers can you endure, just to get some snogging done". So I love your poem.

Pen