Mrs. Dalloway Forgot Her Jewelry

[jon1jt]

Mrs. Dalloway said that she would buy the flowers herself.

[Virgil]

I love these bragging poems of Jon. :lol: I think I once said it but what the heck I'll say it again. Based on you poems you must have a girl in every port. :lol: I like the way you couple it with an author and a particular book, Mrs Dalloway. Although I can't decipher the link between your poem and the novel, I'm sure there's one snce the language persuades me.

[blp]

This is really great. Not sure if the text messaging's working. My main suggestion for a change would be 'She left this morning. / On her way out' to 'On her way out this morning'. It's both inelegant and misleading as is.

[jon1jt]

I love these bragging poems of Jon. :lol: I think I once said it but what the heck I'll say it again. Based on you poems you must have a girl in every port. :lol: I like the way you couple it with an author and a particular book, Mrs Dalloway. Although I can't decipher the link between your poem and the novel, I'm sure there's one snce the language persuades me.

:lol: :lol: Hey Virge, consider the ultimate road trip: I swing over to pick you up, then we head to Ohio for StLukesGuild. We turn the car south where B-Mental waits with his rucksack under that golden groaning Louisiana sun and somewhere along the way we convince BLP to take a flight to meet us. :D The five of us drive and visit every port along the way in no particular order with our sole purpose to love and be loved, and to write poems long after those prairie stars dim. :p

[B-Mental]

woah, that sounds like a lot of fun, and a little bit of trouble. I know Kiz would kill us, if we didn't stop by and get her, then find a good cave, and have a power jam...I'll bring the harmonica and bongos. Might be some ports the port authority doesn't want B back in...especially in Canada...so I'll bring costumes...

I love the poem jon....solid thru and thru. Cheers, B

[Sweets America]

At first I didn't like this poem as much as the others, but I have reread it and I like it more now. :p
However, two things did not really appeal to me:
-how you included the text messages. It does not go well with the rest of the poem to me. Their tone is too conversational to me. In this poem anyway, because I like the conversational tone in some of your other poems.
-the bragging tone of the poem. :D Well, at first it irritated me a little, but on my next readings, I felt better about it, I don't know why.

I love the lines:

I mean, how sex, food and books
cause wars.
I want sweet things,
but I will also admit to wanting things that interfere.

[blp]

I'm so up for this trip, except...except...

[motherhubbard]

It’s a great poem. I’d like a collection of Jon’s romantic escapades in verse.

[AuntShecky]

Jon, your stuff is always so original. What I find most appealing is that your pieces are distinctive, unlike those of almost anyone else except perhaps James Schuyler:

http://www.poets.org/poet.php/prmPID/1120

If you have the Norton Anthology, check out " December"
and the breathtaking "Sorting, Wrapping, Packing,Stuffing." (Maybe those two Schuyler poems are
available online.)

I think he wrote a series of poems all about the various months (A series of poems on an umbrella topic are always interesting -- on our Forum here Ampoule did a series on "Colors," remember?)

Back to this particular piece, you already scored points by
making a Virginia Woolf a character. This is a quite valid
aspect of "post-modern" literature: drawing on what has been written before and giving it a new spin. It's a kind of
"neoclassicism" as in modern music. Forgive me, though, but the tiny bit of romanticism left in this old soul wonders if Mrs. D. wouldn't have preferred that someone else had bought the flowers for her, rather than having to buy them
for herself.

My favorite part of this piece is the opening lines, set in a diner. Restaurants, diners, bars: all great settings for poems, short stories, plays (of the latter where
would "The Iceman Cometh" go if it weren't for Harry Hope's joint?) Somebody on the forum wrote a nice piece set in a coffeehouse. (I can't find it, but I think it was by cdnreader.) And one of the "tiny poems" by yours truly
had a waitressy theme:

Chick Sal Sand

Note how
in the dankest digs

someone remembers to water
the plants struggling
through lack of light.

It’s helpful to catch
the briefest spark of humanity:
the pedestrian’s grinning shrug
when the “Don't Walk”
sign won't change;

the abbreviated
lunch order scribbled
on a little green pad.

Anyway, Jon, keep the "orders" comin'!

[jon1jt]

I'm going to respond to a couple now and more later. Please bear with me, I will get to all. Thanks.


I love these bragging I like the way you couple it with an author and a particular book, Mrs Dalloway. Although I can't decipher the link between your poem and the novel, I'm sure there's one snce the language persuades me.

Thanks Virge. The link between my poem and the book, if there is one, is my unwitting interpretation of Mrs. Dalloway, which I recently finished. I'll spare you the pain of that one. :lol: I was happy to hear that the 'language persuaded you, that was my intention if the reader hadn't read the book. :thumbs_up


BLP: I struggled with that line you pointed out because my intention was to cause an abrupt shift from the waitress in the diner to the waitress leaving my house. After reading it many times now, I'm persuaded to change it for the reasons you mentioned. The text messaging was a gamble---I tried something new, maybe it works, maybe it doesn't...I'm trying. As usual, big thanks to you, blp.


I'm so up for this trip, except...except...

Just think of our trip as an exercise in true Tolerance. :D Imagine: five
guys--writers, poets, book lovers , romantics what have you, all with their own quarks, from different places, brought together for a one-time cross-country jaunt! Just think of the material we'll have to draw on long after---the joys, the fights, the heartaches, the disappointments. :lol: Hell that spells adventure! In the words of Willy Wonka, We are the merrymakers, and we are the dreamers of dreams. ;)



woah, that sounds like a lot of fun, and a little bit of trouble. I know Kiz would kill us, if we didn't stop by and get her, then find a good cave, and have a power jam...I'll bring the harmonica and bongos. Might be some ports the port authority doesn't want B back in...especially in Canada...so I'll bring costumes...

B, that sounds wild and I'm all for it. My only concern is that Kiz's electric guitar-playing husband is not going to appreciate FIVE GUYS showing up at their doorstep! :p We'll have some explaining to do. Oh, I have an idea---you and me utilize your disguises by posing as a couple Buddhist monks and we tell her hubby that we're taking Kiz back with us to the monastary, a sort of "spiritual retreat." :D Meanwhile, Virge and BLP will be busy fighting each other in Kiz's backyard! :lol:

Oh my!

[kiz_paws]

I liked this poem for a few reasons. Firstly, the title itself drew me in, I liked it, very cool. I loved the poem's upbeat tempo, and the plain way of saying things like

It's Saturday morning
and my thought's on
purple underwear,
her smile, how Woolf's imagery scratched out
my eyes;
there's a hunger to survive.
I mean, how sex, food and books
cause wars.
I want sweet things,
but I will also admit to wanting things that interfere.
That was my favorite verse. I also loved that little three-line ending. Perfect.


Originally Posted by b-mental
woah, that sounds like a lot of fun, and a little bit of trouble. I know Kiz would kill us, if we didn't stop by and get her, then find a good cave, and have a power jam...I'll bring the harmonica and bongos. Might be some ports the port authority doesn't want B back in...especially in Canada...so I'll bring costumes...

Ha ha -- nothin like a great poetry bash, with some awesome people! :thumbs_up


B, that sounds wild and I'm all for it. My only concern is that Kiz's electric guitar-playing husband is not going to appreciate FIVE GUYS showing up at their doorstep! We'll have some explaining to do. Oh, I have an idea---you and me utilize your disguises by posing as a couple Buddhist monks and we tell her hubby that we're taking Kiz back with us to the monastary, a sort of "spiritual retreat." Meanwhile, Virge and BLP will be busy fighting each other in Kiz's backyard!

Oh my Ha ha! Such plots, but think of the fun! And if Virge and BLP are fighting, they better bring their warmest clothing items! The snow is deep and their little noses will freeze! :lol:

[Il Penseroso]

I liked this one too, though admittedly not at first. The style is nice; your poetic flares are tightly contained without overabundance, making them stand more clear. I think you managed to pull the TM section off quite nicely, though personally I think those three concluding lines are the weakest in the poem. They seem the least creative, a bit flat, though I'm struggling to think of why...

I'll think it over and try to get back.

[B-Mental]

Ok, I personally thought the text messaging was perfect...I know I'm old fashioned, and I've dated...ahem...cough, cough....younger women, but they text like its an extension of themselves, and I don't even use the cell phone that much to talk.

I like the rapid fire text messages one after another, they convey the excitement the waitress has after that night...she is excited...really great poem jon!

[jon1jt]

At first I didn't like this poem as much as the others, but I have reread it and I like it more now. :p

Well good for me and my poemy that you're patient and open-minded. Thanks.


However, two things did not really appeal to me:
-how you included the text messages. It does not go well with the rest of the poem to me. Their tone is too conversational to me. In this poem anyway, because I like the conversational tone in some of your other poems.

Well, maybe the text messages are more conversational than what I normally write because I didn't write the TMs. ;)

Write on Sweets.


Jon, your stuff is always so original. What I find most appealing is that your pieces are distinctive, unlike those of almost anyone else except perhaps James Schuyler:

http://www.poets.org/poet.php/prmPID/1120

If you have the Norton Anthology, check out " December"
and the breathtaking "Sorting, Wrapping, Packing,Stuffing." (Maybe those two Schuyler poems are
available online.)

Thank you Aunty for that big compliment. I'm trying and trying harder than hardest. I'll be sure to check out Schuyler too. I have heard of him, I'll let you know. Thanks in bunches.


Back to this particular piece, you already scored points by
making a Virginia Woolf a character. This is a quite valid
aspect of "post-modern" literature: drawing on what has been written before and giving it a new spin. It's a kind of "neoclassicism" as in modern music.


Oh yes, I've been reading many in poetry mags the past couple years especially. I really enjoy them and yet they're so darn hard to write! It's almost as if I take extra care laying down the lines because I know the slightest mess up will send somebody like ol' Virginia Woolf rolling over in her grave groaning, "What are you talking about Willis?!" :p I'm working on one now, a spinoff of Kerouac's On The Road. two days and I'm still editing the first line. :p


Forgive me, though, but the tiny bit of romanticism left in this old soul wonders if Mrs. D. wouldn't have preferred that someone else had bought the flowers for her, rather than having to buy them
for herself.

I absolutely agree, Mrs. Woolf doesn't fool me one bit, she would have much preferred the flowers from some artsy London gent.


My favorite part of this piece is the opening lines, set in a diner. Restaurants, diners, bars: all great settings for poems, short stories, plays (of the latter where
would "The Iceman Cometh" go if it weren't for Harry Hope's joint?)

The Iceman Cometh is one of my all-time favorites, yes yes! I agree, bars especially, perhaps because it's where poets can see better under the masks.




Chick Sal Sand

Note how
in the dankest digs

someone remembers to water
the plants struggling
through lack of light.

It’s helpful to catch
the briefest spark of humanity:
the pedestrian’s grinning shrug
when the “Don't Walk”
sign won't change;

the abbreviated
lunch order scribbled
on a little green pad.

Aunty, I completely missed this one. This is great stuff...those first five lines, wow I love it!!!!

[jon1jt]

I liked this one too, though admittedly not at first. The style is nice; your poetic flares are tightly contained without overabundance, making them stand more clear. I think you managed to pull the TM section off quite nicely, though personally I think those three concluding lines are the weakest in the poem. They seem the least creative, a bit flat, though I'm struggling to think of why...

I'll think it over and try to get back.


Thanks IL, it seems there's at least one other who didn't like it much on the first read. That's strange...I wonder if it's the stream of TMs---B-Mental was reading my mind with his comment about how TMing is such a big form of communication, especially for 20-somethings. It's always easier.

The flatness of the last line may be at least partly attributed to what I call the Huh?-moment of reading poetry--the line that ends too stiffly and leaves the reader looking for a point. I'm curious if anyone actually understood the last line in terms of how it relates to the rest of the poem. Hmm.

[Il Penseroso]

part of my initial response was that it's condescending toward women. that final line really holds its ambiguous own as far as deciding the tone of the piece, at least to me. but yeah, i probably don't understand it.


I could interpret that last line as pertaining to some sort of superficial/material excitement/orgasm thing going on...anywhere close? :)

[blp]

Just think of our trip as an exercise in true Tolerance. :D Imagine: five
guys--writers, poets, book lovers , romantics what have you, all with their own quarks, from different places, brought together for a one-time cross-country jaunt! Just think of the material we'll have to draw on long after---the joys, the fights, the heartaches, the disappointments. :lol: Hell that spells adventure! In the words of Willy Wonka, We are the merrymakers, and we are the dreamers of dreams. ;)


...except I was born without a face and I'm afraid when you guys see me you won't like me anymore.

Seriously though - 'Tolerance'. What can you be referring to?

To be honest, sitting here in this office with a striplight flickering and people nearby having meetings about 'aspirational' products...oh for the open road (and hang the carbon footprint).

xx

[motherhubbard]

Jon, I keep coming back to this poem and checking for new ones. It is well written, interesting, fresh, expressive and I enjoy it more each time I read it. You have a real winner here. I hope you post another poem soon.

[jon1jt]

IP: But...but...I love them all! :p I see what you're saying, I agree, that's there. As far as the end, it's simple enough: If we are to take Mrs. Dalloway's word for it, all she wanted that day in London was to buy the flowers herself. In the case of the girl TMing in the poem, all she wants is her jewelry. Whether we believe them is another story. ;)


...except I was born without a face and I'm afraid when you guys see me you won't like me anymore.

Oh that's a minor inconvenience my friend!


Seriously though - 'Tolerance'. What can you be referring to?

I meant in the sense that we all have to get along. Consider that Virgil will be stuck in the car with at least two atheists (or vice versa!), so I'm suspecting there could be some heated arguments along the way. We have to be prepared for that. :p


To be honest, sitting here in this office with a striplight flickering and people nearby having meetings about 'aspirational' products...oh for the open road (and hang the carbon footprint).

:lol: Right on, blp, hang the carbon footprint---footprints, count me in, Yes yes yes!

[jon1jt]

Jon, I keep coming back to this poem and checking for new ones. It is well written, interesting, fresh, expressive and I enjoy it more each time I read it. You have a real winner here. I hope you post another poem soon.

Motherhubbard, if somebody reads my poem just once I'm very happy. If somebody like yourself has read my poem more than that I do a little celebration dance called the cha cha. :p Thanks. More poems coming up, my pleasure.

[firefangled]

This was not one of my favorites of yours, Jon. I enjoyed reading it, but some parts put me off track. I liked the parallel of the waitresses and I used it to justify what I interp[reted as a disconnect between:

...I don't know/much about Woolf...

and


and/began to wonder about all the fuss/over its opening sentence:

and


how Woolf's imagery scratched out/my eyes;/there's a hunger to survive.

I don't mean to be too picky, but I wondered how, within his unfamiliarity of Woolf, the character knew about this and its accompanying fuss. Also, the third reference to Woolf implied that he had read Mrs. Dalloway enough to make an interpretation. I thought that was a leap, but perhaps justified through the sentence:


I will stay home and read some later...

I thought the text messaging a courageous foray into was has become an integral part of contemporary life and should be included in poetry if we are to portray that life fully.

I also thought the last three lines implied a knowledge of the book sufficient for interpretation. Assuming I am wrong about my disconnects above, I would have ended this with the character deciding to read what all the fuss is about and: "I picked up a book and began to read,/Mrs. Dalloway said she would buy the flowers herself.

Overall, as usual, I enjoy the bravery in your poetry. You would love Jorie Graham and Brenda Hillman

[jon1jt]

This was not one of my favorites of yours, Jon. I enjoyed reading it, but some parts put me off track. I liked the parallel of the waitresses and I used it to justify what I interp[reted as a disconnect between:


and



and



I don't mean to be too picky, but I wondered how, within his unfamiliarity of Woolf, the character knew about this and its accompanying fuss. Also, the third reference to Woolf implied that he had read Mrs. Dalloway enough to make an interpretation. I thought that was a leap, but perhaps justified through the sentence:



I thought the text messaging a courageous foray into was has become an integral part of contemporary life and should be included in poetry if we are to portray that life fully.

I also thought the last three lines implied a knowledge of the book sufficient for interpretation. Assuming I am wrong about my disconnects above, I would have ended this with the character deciding to read what all the fuss is about and: "I picked up a book and began to read,/Mrs. Dalloway said she would buy the flowers herself.

Overall, as usual, I enjoy the bravery in your poetry. You would love Jorie Graham and Brenda Hillman

Thanks fire, I always appreciate thoughtful interpretations and feedback.

I have no illusions about this poem, I didn't expect much. I'm ecstatic it received this many crits. To take a larger than life character like Mrs. Dalloway and to set her in a poem and keep it all from unraveling is very difficult to pull off. This one was a learning experience for me.

As far as the speaker's admittedly limited understanding of Virginia Woolf, consider that the girl leaves the speaker's house in the morning with the Dalloway book. The inference there, I hope, is that they were discussing it some the night before, which is why his eyes felt scratched out. Coupled with the line you indicated about 'reading some later' I felt there was enough there to build the case for the speaker's later ephiphany, which is why I rounded it off with, "It reminded me of Mrs. Dalloway..."

Your ending is very clever, I like it. I attempted to fuse the girl and Mrs. Dalloway through the speaker's interpretation at the end. That is, if we are to take Mrs. Dalloway's word for it, all she wanted that day was to buy the flowers herself. In the case of the girl TMing in the poem, all she wants is her jewelry, and she assures him that that's all she wants. Whether we believe her is another story. The myriad of interpretations on Dalloway's first line suggest to me that there was more to it than meets the eye.

I agree with you about the text messaging. I wonder why we don't see more of them in the poetry today.

Oh, I checked out Brenda Hillman and she's terrific. I ordered one of her recent books! Thanks.