Early

[Virgil]

Ok this was my entry to the Summer Poetry contest. It didn't get many votes, so I want to know all that's wrong with it. Please be critically honest. (But tell what 's good too ;))


Early

The sand now squeezes
cool constringed

to toothpaste
between the toes

as curls of Atlantic
a chasm body deep

but here funnels
to ankle height

greet cold on to feet.

The morning sun
is not harsh, not yet

and seagulls cluster
at the guard tower

a basket of sticks
stacked onto white sand

too early for bathers
and sun takers and blankets

and hot dog buns.

The curved coast wraps
a cragged arm

around glistened silver
rolling waves whiten

to round bushy tips
the ocean heartbeat

slow and steady
a deep unending organism

ever swallowing land.

The shells are forever
spit upon the shore

stabbing little tacks
beneath the feet

bits of life once lived
beneath the sea

pooling into a footprint
indented then washed flat

life and death, water and sand.

A horseshoe crab corpse
is beached upon

the rising slope of sand
and by are strips

of seaweed, laid out
to a shredded banner

slimy to the feet
pulped from the bowels

feculence of summer’s promise.

I must say I have mixd feelings about the word "constringed" in the second line. It's an ugly word :sick: but on the other hand it did seem to replicate the sense of wet sands squeezing through toes.

Overall I was after a certain rhythm, the repetitive sense of the ocean breathing in and out. Was I successful?

[Dark Muse]

It is a tad bit too contempary for my usual personal taste. It had some interesting imagery, but it took me a while to figure just what it was suppose to be about.


and seagulls cluster
at the guard tower

This was my favorite part

[PrinceMyshkin]

Ok this was my entry to the Summer Poetry contest. It didn't get many votes, so I want to know all that's wrong with it. Please be critically honest. (But tell what 's good too ;))



I must say I have mixd feelings about the word "constringed" in the second line. It's an ugly word :sick: but on the other hand it did seem to replicate the sense of wet sands squeezing through toes.

Overall I was after a certain rhythm, the repetitive sense of the ocean breathing in and out. Was I successful?

I had mixed feelings myself about "constringed," not so much because of the ugliness you see in it but because I had trouble visualizing it and experienced anxiety because I'd never encountered it before; and a similar difficulty with "feculence" which I had to look up - and wonder, still, if some more immediately familiar, blunter word might have been more appropriate. And I cannot respond to your question about the rhythm, because it's a thing I seldom pay (enough?) attention to, unless it's forced on me, and then I resent it, but what works best for me - and it does work very well - is this extraordinarily keen-eyed observation of every facet of the scene. It feels lived - thoroughly and vividly lived!

[Virgil]

Thanks Dark Muse and Prince. Prince, I have the same ambivilance, though not as much on feculence. I understand what you're saying.

[paperleaves]

This is honestly more like my preference of writing, I am in love with this, and if you aren't happy with the word "constringed", then maybe you can change it once the right word comes to you. I like it , though, as a precursor to the word toothpaste. It seems right to me.

[Virgil]

This is honestly more like my preference of writing, I am in love with this, and if you aren't happy with the word "constringed", then maybe you can change it once the right word comes to you. I like it , though, as a precursor to the word toothpaste. It seems right to me.

Thank you very much Paperleaves. And welcome to lit net.

[Jozanny]

[Early

The sand now squeezes
cool constringed

to toothpaste
between the toes]

For me, the tactile sensation of wet sand compared to toothpaste doesn't work. In contemporary poetry, the nominative practice is to take one image, ie, wet sand, and play it out, but you do not here; instead the water curls

[as curls of Atlantic
a chasm body deep

but here funnels
to ankle height]

and I do not know really what is going on with the chasm and funnels. Don't overload

greet cold on to feet.]

The cold should be tied closer to the wet sand between the toes. If you tighten that drop feet or move it

The morning sun
is not harsh, [not yet] extraneous

and seagulls cluster
at the guard tower

[a basket of sticks
stacked onto white sand] too confusing in transition from the gulls, how are birds a basket of sticks, and why is it now white sand?

too early for bathers
and sun takers and blankets

and hot dog buns.

[The curved coast wraps
a cragged arm

around glistened silver
rolling waves whiten] better, drop rolling

[to round bushy tips
the ocean heartbeat] what are you doing with bushy tips?

slow and steady
a deep unending organism

ever swallowing land.

The shells are forever
spit upon the shore

stabbing little tacks
beneath the feet

bits of life once lived
beneath the sea

pooling into a footprint
indented then washed flat

life and death, water and sand.

A horseshoe crab corpse
is beached upon

the rising slope of sand
and by are strips

of seaweed, laid out
to a shredded banner

slimy to the feet
pulped from the bowels

feculence of summer’s promise.

Your imagery needs more discipline. You told me you liked my poem Red Ivy. Go back and read it again. Alexandra published it in American Writing because it was different from another piece of mine she took and wanted to highlight that.

Look at how I stay with the image of the ivy climbing but only mention ivy in the title--the entire poem is about how the ivy climbs, staying with one thing, or even the Hugo poem I put in poem of the week, the piece builds to the butterflies in a consistent narrative of a spring day.

Go back and read some smaller poems like this.

[Nossa]

I really liked your imagery, Virgil. Your choice of words is also very good. I just found it a bit difficult to relate the words and sentences with your style of writing. I found myself lost in the poem sometimes cuz of it. That's all actually. But this isn't really a drawback, people differ, and if I didn't like the style very much, it doesn't mean that it's not good, and vice versa. I still insist that your writing talent is fascinating. I still remember that poem you wrote for the Chrismas contest. I loved it! So yeah, it's just the writing style, that's all :D


a basket of sticks
stacked onto white sand

too early for bathers
and sun takers and blankets

and hot dog buns.

I really liked these lines :D

[Jozanny]

The only reason I paid a visit was because Virgil asked me. I'm sorry. I am hard enough on myself about my own work, and Virgil has an astute critical mind, but this poem lacks focus and fragments too self-consciously. It needs to chuck out stuff and focus on one or two things.

I create complex narratives in my work and have been called pretentious, but I've been publishing for 22 years now, and it is really coming home to me I need to end my vacation and using this board as a way station with such frequency. I am not as well read as some members here but I do know the publishing world.

[jgweed]

This makes it more organised- - -

The sand now squeezes
cool constringed
to toothpaste
between the toes
as curls of Atlantic
a chasm body deep
but here funnels
to ankle height
greet cold on to feet.

The morning sun
is not harsh, not yet
and seagulls cluster
at the guard tower
a basket of sticks
stacked onto white sand
too early for bathers
and sun takers and blankets
and hot dog buns.

The curved coast wraps
a cragged arm
around glistened silver
rolling waves whiten
to round bushy tips
the ocean heartbeat
slow and steady
a deep unending organism
ever swallowing land.

The shells are forever
spit upon the shore
stabbing little tacks
beneath the feet
bits of life once lived
beneath the sea
pooling into a footprint
indented then washed flat
life and death, water and sand.

A horseshoe crab corpse
is beached upon
the rising slope of sand
and by are strips
of seaweed, laid out
to a shredded banner
slimy to the feet
pulped from the bowels
feculence of summer’s promise.

I also suggest using additional punctuation: dashes or semicolons, for example.

[Pendragon]

Set up what the problem not the content. When I saw the set up, I thought Ghazal and couldn't get past that. The lines weren't long enough for good Ghazal, and you had one stand alone line. The Poem content is actually good! :)

[symphony]

While I dont quite like this sort of poems where the "detached tone tends to make it too abstract to feel it, I must also say I like the way you throw those different pictures at us with those seemingly torn lines. Really beautiful imageries. I didnt have any problem with "contringed", to me it sounded appropriate enough. But i did frown a lot at the use of "feculence" in the last line. And not because it was harder to understand, because it seemed to spoil the ending for me. Perhaps I was expecting a more....telling last line, one which will add more substance, more meaning, to the poem. That unexpected last line was somehow disappointing instead of thrilling.
However, my favorite parts of the poem were:

slow and steady
a deep unending organism

ever swallowing land.

The shells are forever
spit upon the shore

stabbing little tacks
beneath the feet

bits of life once lived
beneath the sea

pooling into a footprint
indented then washed flat

life and death, water and sand

[goldenrod]

I'm just going to say I liked it...and run for cover!


goldenrod.

[Virgil]

[Early
Your imagery needs more discipline. You told me you liked my poem Red Ivy. Go back and read it again. Alexandra published it in American Writing because it was different from another piece of mine she took and wanted to highlight that.

Look at how I stay with the image of the ivy climbing but only mention ivy in the title--the entire poem is about how the ivy climbs, staying with one thing, or even the Hugo poem I put in poem of the week, the piece builds to the butterflies in a consistent narrative of a spring day.

Go back and read some smaller poems like this.
Thanks. I was trying to capture the entire ambiance, not one particular thing. But I know what you mean.


I really liked your imagery, Virgil. Your choice of words is also very good. I just found it a bit difficult to relate the words and sentences with your style of writing. I found myself lost in the poem sometimes cuz of it. That's all actually. But this isn't really a drawback, people differ, and if I didn't like the style very much, it doesn't mean that it's not good, and vice versa. I still insist that your writing talent is fascinating. I still remember that poem you wrote for the Chrismas contest. I loved it! So yeah, it's just the writing style, that's all :D

That's ok. I don't mnd you telling me that. :)


The only reason I paid a visit was because Virgil asked me. I'm sorry. I am hard enough on myself about my own work, and Virgil has an astute critical mind, but this poem lacks focus and fragments too self-consciously. It needs to chuck out stuff and focus on one or two things.

No need to apologize Jozy. I asked you to comment. :)


This makes it more organised- - -

The sand now squeezes
cool constringed
to toothpaste
between the toes
as curls of Atlantic
a chasm body deep
but here funnels
to ankle height
greet cold on to feet.

The morning sun
is not harsh, not yet
and seagulls cluster
at the guard tower
a basket of sticks
stacked onto white sand
too early for bathers
and sun takers and blankets
and hot dog buns.
etc...
I also suggest using additional punctuation: dashes or semicolons, for example.
I thought about arranging it as you suggest, and I do consider the breaks as stanzas. I wanted to create four two line couplets culimnating with a single line. I had something in particular in mind. The way I arranged the lines I feel (at least for me) it echoes the ocean rhythm. That is lost by the way you arranged it.



Set up what the problem not the content. When I saw the set up, I thought Ghazal and couldn't get past that. The lines weren't long enough for good Ghazal, and you had one stand alone line. The Poem content is actually good! :)
That's ok, Pen, thanks.



While I dont quite like this sort of poems where the "detached tone tends to make it too abstract to feel it, I must also say I like the way you throw those different pictures at us with those seemingly torn lines. Really beautiful imageries. I didnt have any problem with "contringed", to me it sounded appropriate enough. But i did frown a lot at the use of "feculence" in the last line. And not because it was harder to understand, because it seemed to spoil the ending for me. Perhaps I was expecting a more....telling last line, one which will add more substance, more meaning, to the poem. That unexpected last line was somehow disappointing instead of thrilling.
However, my favorite parts of the poem were:
Thanks Symphony. I didn't have any breath taking theme unfortunately. Nothing like that came to me. Just the sounds and sights of the ocean and whatever meaning one draws from it. :)


I'm just going to say I liked it...and run for cover!


goldenrod.

Thank you.

[TheFifthElement]

Hi Virgil. It's a good poem, though in places a little inaccessible, and perhaps that's why it didn't get so many votes? I must admit I didn't like 'constringed' and coming so early on in the poem it was quite off putting, but at the same time it's a bold word ;) I wouldn't necessarily suggest changing it. I agree with symphony about 'feculence' too. I think the rhythm is good, you do capture the rhythm of the ocean and the line breaks do compliment that.

For me, the reason I didn't vote for the poem was the opening, a combination of 'constringed' and the odd syntax of this section, which lost me:


The sand now squeezes
cool constringed

to toothpaste
between the toes

as curls of Atlantic
a chasm body deep

but here funnels
to ankle height

greet cold on to feet.

and at this point I'd stopped reading, which is a shame because the better part of the poem follows and there is some excellent imagery here:


too early for bathers
and sun takers and blankets

and hot dog buns.

The curved coast wraps
a cragged arm

around glistened silver

This is lovely, quietly moving:


the ocean heartbeat

slow and steady
a deep unending organism

ever swallowing land.

and I liked this image:

The shells are forever
spit upon the shore

stabbing little tacks
beneath the feet

but by here it's starting to feel a little repetitive, maybe one image too far?


A horseshoe crab corpse
is beached upon

the rising slope of sand

but I think it's important to reiterate that it's a good poem, the way you've used the images, syntax, wording is quite original so I'd be reluctant to suggest changing anything to be honest. A bold poem, yet controlled. A difficult balance to strike but you've handled it very well. Hope this helps.

[Sweets America]

This is strange, neither "constringed" nor "feculence" appear in my English dictionary! :alien: I could find constringed somewhere else but I still don't really know what feculence means. :p

Now I must say that I really like the images that your poem created in my mind, I loved this feeling of early morning on the beach, and everything you said added to the atmosphere.

[Virgil]

Hi Virgil. It's a good poem, though in places a little inaccessible, and perhaps that's why it didn't get so many votes? I must admit I didn't like 'constringed' and coming so early on in the poem it was quite off putting, but at the same time it's a bold word ;) I wouldn't necessarily suggest changing it. I agree with symphony about 'feculence' too. I think the rhythm is good, you do capture the rhythm of the ocean and the line breaks do compliment that.

For me, the reason I didn't vote for the poem was the opening, a combination of 'constringed' and the odd syntax of this section, which lost me:

Yes I agree about that opennng stanza. Over time I began to dislike it more and more. Unfortunately I had already submitted the poem. That was the where I began the poem and it set the tone and I found it hard to edit afterward. But then I hated it more and more. :lol: Thanks for all your comments.


This is strange, neither "constringed" nor "feculence" appear in my English dictionary! :alien: I could find constringed somewhere else but I still don't really know what feculence means. :p

Now I must say that I really like the images that your poem created in my mind, I loved this feeling of early morning on the beach, and everything you said added to the atmosphere.

Thank you Sweets. I appreciate the read. Perhaps if you're looking for a definition, this site may help: http://www.merriam-webster.com/. It doesn't have every single word but I find it's good. Also you might want to do a search on a word with definition as part of the tag. For instance "feculence definition." It should come up with dictionaries.

[firefangled]

Hi Virgil. These are wonderful few moments you have captured, the testing for the arrival of summer.

I'm coming in at the tail end of this discussion so I hope you don't mind one more input. I don't want to beat constringed to death; I think in another place it is a good word, but what seemed off to me was toothpaste is smooth and gooey; sand is gritty, even with water in it.

In a way constringed is redundant of squeezes or whatever synonym you might have used, you don't need another word in this opening, nor a simile for this very familiar image. I would also personalize the poem starting with using my toes. I sensed in your opening a person who goes to this place, perhaps starting as early as March, and looks for all these signs that Summer is here. It's wonderful! So make them personal moments and they will be all the more ours when we read.

I loved the toes curling with the Atlantic waves, but when I read this piece it seemed you significantly changed the feeling, for the good, starting from The morning sun / is not harsh, not yet.

I also enjoyed the sound of:


too early for bathers
and sun takers and blankets

and hot dog buns

As far as feculence goes, it is the entire line that makes it not work for me. In the end you set Summer up to be very special by an implied contrast. You are referring, I know, to the prelude to summer here, its “promise”. But it seemed to me to involve the word for this special season in the description of its predecessor, which leaves slimy parts of things and corpses strewn across the beach with undesirable cool sand, puts it in bad company.

All this is to say I would make this final announcement of the coming of Summer in another way. It a problem of associations.

If I may give a blunt example: It is one thing to say, "aspirin, the promise of relief;" and another to say, "construction debris, the promise of a beautiful house."

[Virgil]

Thanks Fire. Sounds like good advice. :)

[ShadowFire]

Well I know you were trying for a rhythm, but I just didn't feel it. I couldn't feel the flow. But there was some very good images. I think you should have gotten more votes, but state that you have many better poems. You have more guts then I do summitting to a competition like that so, my hat is off to you. Thank you for sharing.

[Virgil]

Thanks Shadow. No guts required. I hope you will submit in the future.