The sketch in the Window

[PrinceMyshkin]

Of the crumbs that fell
from the martyr’s mouth
we endeavoured to make a meal
for the children, but the children
needed food for today and a bit
to grow on. “Starve them,”
cried the sketch of a face
in the window, “and they will obey!”

We all stand between the gibbet
and the sleigh, and the slope
is growing sloppy and precipitous.

[paperleaves]

So heartwrenching, Jer, in the most eloquent way. I don't understand the "sketch in the face of the window", though, who is that supposed to symbolize? (Keep in mind I am only now sipping on my first cup of coffee, lol, could just be the sleep in my eyes)

love
Kate

[PrinceMyshkin]

So heartwrenching, Jer, in the most eloquent way. I don't understand the "sketch in the face of the window", though, who is that supposed to symbolize? (Keep in mind I am only now sipping on my first cup of coffee, lol, could just be the sleep in my eyes)

love
Kate

'Snot "sketch in the" but sketch of a, but who is it? If I knew, I think I might tell, but honestly, I don't know 'cept to say I don't much like what it suggests.

[blazeofglory]

This poem sounds so intriguingly touching and I really like the beauty.

[~Sophia~]

I sure felt this one Prince! Yesterday's CNN International News Headline was:

Traffickers targeting Haiti's children for human organs, PM says

After reading that I couldn't feel anything but numb. Children should be nourished, loved, kept safe and warm but, not for harvesting. This is beyond morbid and reprehensible. These little orphans have no one to protect them from predators. The world sucks sometimes.

and the slope
is growing sloppy and precipitous.

[PrinceMyshkin]

I sure felt this one Prince! Yesterday's CNN International News Headline was:

Traffickers targeting Haiti's children for human organs, PM says

After reading that I couldn't feel anything but numb. Children should be nourished, loved, kept safe and warm but, not for harvesting. This is beyond morbid and reprehensible. These little orphans have no one to protect them from predators. The world sucks sometimes.

and the slope
is growing sloppy and precipitous.

I appreciate that you were able to read it and find an application to the hideous situation in Haiti, and in general for your concern for exploited children. I do confess that I had no particular situation in mind when I wrote it and would have felt awkward if anyone asked for a prose translation,

[~Sophia~]

All the better. That's what makes good poetry (for me). What I read in your poem touched my heart in that way. What someone else takes away will be an affect of theirs. Thanks for the poem!

[Bar22do]

It is an inspired piece, probably one of your best, a tough one to surpass. I once saw a performance called "the world in an aquarium" (it was the school for performing arts in jerusalem that produced it) - in which personified horrors would smash their faces in the glass wall of the aquarium to the dread of agonizing adults, children and the wise equally encapsulated in it... one of the threads there was the ambiguity about who was really the victim...
I also thought, while reading your unbearably aching poem, that the Israeli most renown playwright Hanoh Levin would eagerly adopt it as a motto to overarch all his very original, politically/humanly committed work (do you know him/about him?).

Due to absence of any hat on my head, let hair velvet ribbon fly to you, forwarding my thanks and amazement.

[blank|verse]

Hmm, intriguing. Not quite sure what to make of this one.

There seem to be biblical resonances with the 'martyr' reference, which raises the question about who the 'we' are - disciples? Then why isn't Christ helping 'the children'? And, yes, it's hard to ignore Haiti in the background to all this; although it all seems to be happening in the Middle East somewhere...

Then there's the shift to an arctic tundra, with the 'sleigh' reference. Not too keen on 'precipitous' as the last word.... As I said, hmm.

[PrinceMyshkin]

First: Bar, thank you so much for your heartfelt response and the velvet ribbon that, even now, is circulating above my head...


Hmm, intriguing. Not quite sure what to make of this one.

There seem to be biblical resonances with the 'martyr' reference, which raises the question about who the 'we' are - disciples? Then why isn't Christ helping 'the children'? And, yes, it's hard to ignore Haiti in the background to all this; although it all seems to be happening in the Middle East somewhere...

Then there's the shift to an arctic tundra, with the 'sleigh' reference. Not too keen on 'precipitous' as the last word.... As I said, hmm.

Well, I rather dreaded being called to account for this poem, to translate it, as it were, into common-sense speech. I've often quoted the words of an early 20th c. French writer (it may have been Verlaine or Valery): "I would rather write a 2nd-rate work in full possession of my senses than a masterpiece in a trance."

Without meaning to claim that "The Sketch in the Window" is a masterpiece, I will say that like so many of my writings, it was written at least in part - more than usually so in this case - in a trance. A version of the opening lines occurred to me: I couldn't have said from where or what they meant, but I was enchanted by the music and the image, and just allowed my instincts/intuition to be guided by those...

So, no, no reference to Jesus is intended nor to the Arctic: it is snowy enough in Montreal these days for the image of the sleigh to come from there, both for the euphoria of my memories of sledding down-hill and for my sense, following on the recent financial crisis, that we can't really control the sleigh: the slope is just to precipitous, and at the end of the descent is a crash of some degree of severity.

Thanks again both to you and to Bar for your attentive readings.

[firefangled]

Of the crumbs that fell
from the martyr’s mouth
we endeavoured to make a meal
for the children, but the children
needed food for today and a bit
to grow on. “Starve them,”
cried the sketch of a face
in the window, “and they will obey!”

We all stand between the gibbet
and the sleigh, and the slope
is growing sloppy and precipitous.


Yes, Yes, Yes!!! When you're damn good, Prince, you're damn good!

I am not quite sure of the overall intentions of this piece. The second stanza is quite enigmatic, BUT this gives me concrete images to think about and and visualize and relationship between those image and visions to consider. In some respects they could be many things, even if you have a specific resolution in mind.

The music, the line breaks - all of it!

This is like finding an exquisite geode or jewel. Even if I am not skilled enough to decompose its layers; I can look at it over and over and see beauty or mystery.

[PrinceMyshkin]

Yes, Yes, Yes!!! When you're damn good, Prince, you're damn good!

Hopefully you did not have in mind Mae West's famous saying: "When I'm good, I'm very good, but when I'm bad I'm better!"


I am not quite sure of the overall intentions of this piece. The second stanza is quite enigmatic, BUT this gives me concrete images to think about and and visualize and relationship between those image and visions to consider. In some respects they could be many things, even if you have a specific resolution in mind.

The music, the line breaks - all of it!

This is like finding an exquisite geode or jewel. Even if I am not skilled enough to decompose its layers; I can look at it over and over and see beauty or mystery.

"The music, the line breaks" to a certain, perhaps a very large part, are the poem. Thanks.

[firefangled]

Hopefully you did not have in mind Mae West's famous saying: "When I'm good, I'm very good, but when I'm bad I'm better!"



Ah! You make me think of one of my favorite scenes of hers. Someone sees her jewelry and remarks, "Goodness, what beautiful diamonds!" Mae West looks at her and quips, "Goodness had nothing to do with it." The pièce de résistance, however, was that May West then took a long nonchalant walk across the room in full sway, and then stopped and looked back over her shoulder as if to say, that's what had to do with it.

[blank|verse]

I will say that like so many of my writings, it was written at least in part - more than usually so in this case - in a trance.

I'm not quite sure what to make of that. Has this been 'induced' or is it a natural thing??

I think the thing is that whether or not you intend to, you do use very strong images and words which perhaps carry connotations that are beyond your control (although you could argue that of all words). However, 'martyr' is an incredibly potent word; the images of suffering children likewise. The poem concludes on a very moral tone as well:


We all stand between the gibbet
and the sleigh, and the slope
is growing sloppy and precipitous.

which has religious overtones: that we are living in a 'fallen world'. It also has the sound of a sermon, the 'We all stand' encompasses everyone, and no-one can escape this fate. So whether or not you intend these things, it's difficult to view your writing as thoughtless - so people will always try to find meaning between the lines.

[MorpheusSandman]

I'm a bit with blnk vrz on not knowing what to make of this. I really like the closing stanza but think it might have been better ending a different piece as it seems somewhat disconnected from the beginning. Plus, there's something awkward about:

we endeavoured to make a meal
for the children, but the children
needed food for today and a bit
to grow on.

I'm not sure I get the transition from from making a meal for the children and then stating the children needed food today... I like the "sketch in the window" and what it suggests as well but I'm really not sure the whole fits here...

[cogs]

i'm reminded of oliver twist, and how hungry orphans look into the candy/restaraunt window. perhaps the 'sketch' could be the frost that distorts faces. i thought you were going to talk about marie antoinette 'let them eat cake', and a guillotine that we're between. though that rhymed, i know it isn't what you intended, but you were probably in a trance, drunk with poetry writing power, you lushious lyricist. ok, maybe it's me, but doggone it, i'm intoxicated with this. (enough, no wait, 'please pass me the word', i mean the bread, i mean the bottle...)

[PrinceMyshkin]

I'm not quite sure what to make of that. Has this been 'induced' or is it a natural thing??

Yes, I would say induced but without the scare quotes. I.e., no vegetable matter or chemicals were involved in its creation, although I might still say "induced" in that my mind-set for some time has receptive to rhythm and images. The notebook I carry with me into the cafe and the cafe atmosphere together act like some sort of Pavlovian reflex.


I think the thing is that whether or not you intend to, you do use very strong images and words which perhaps carry connotations that are beyond your control (although you could argue that of all words). However, 'martyr' is an incredibly potent word; the images of suffering children likewise. The poem concludes on a very moral tone as well:

I guess I can't escape the moral, although I hope I sue it in the way some of the prophets did, to point out as clearly as I can (or believe) where we are.



which has religious overtones: that we are living in a 'fallen world'. It also has the sound of a sermon, the 'We all stand' encompasses everyone, and no-one can escape this fate. So whether or not you intend these things, it's difficult to view your writing as thoughtless - so people will always try to find meaning between the lines.

Well, pace Sophia's response above, they should feel free to do that and their interpretations might be as valid as or even more than my own.

[Pendragon]

We all stand between the gibbet
and the sleigh, and the slope
is growing sloppy and precipitous.


ooh! i really like this wrap-up stanza! well done!

[PrinceMyshkin]

ooh! i really like this wrap-up stanza! well done!

Many thanks, Pen! Of course you would like it as it's not far from something you might write.

[PrinceMyshkin]

i'm reminded of oliver twist, and how hungry orphans look into the candy/restaraunt window. perhaps the 'sketch' could be the frost that distorts faces. i thought you were going to talk about marie antoinette 'let them eat cake', and a guillotine that we're between. though that rhymed, i know it isn't what you intended, but you were probably in a trance, drunk with poetry writing power, you lushious lyricist. ok, maybe it's me, but doggone it, i'm intoxicated with this. (enough, no wait, 'please pass me the word', i mean the bread, i mean the bottle...)

Oh, did I miss your comment earlier? So sorry, especially as I love your speculations about it. Thanks....