At Balnakiel

[hillwalker]

AT BALNAKIEL (22nd November 2009)

(I)

A day to watch
the headland skinned to skeleton and sinew
as the slacking sea peels off its velvet glove;
revealing now a plethora of braided veins
and black, bone-deep tattoos,
arthritic, mangrove metacarpals
ribbon kelp and green sea-wrack;
where husks of tree stump, throttled dry
by rock-salt wind and desert blast and fathom blue
resemble Viking wrecks washed up and left to decompose.

A trail of tracks snakes North
along the interface
between the seething snarl and suck of tide
and brittle, brumal crest of sand-dune;
following the wrist of land,
now clenching fist, now fingers crossed, now clasping prayer;
shape-shifting winds built sacred temples once,
abandoned shrines to fishermen and virgins,
now a heathen sandscape transient as faith.

The lemon light of dusk off distant hills
is soon reflected by the crawling waves,
dissolving on the tongue like sacramental wafers;
while at sea a sacrificial sunset bathes impending night
with visions of Valhalla…..
one single whisper on the turning tide,
a sigh of shuddering bereavement and damnation.


(II)

We saw a rock shaped like a seal, out far off shore;
it kept us guessing for a while until we saw it was a rock
and nothing more.

[PrinceMyshkin]

That abrupt, concise part II poses an initial question re its relevance to the stunningly full-bodied quality of part I, where every word - mono- or poly-syllabic - seems to have the force of something essential and solid. That part I is a masterpiece. I will have to return to wonder again about the relationship to it of part II.

[hillwalker]

Thank you, Prince. Both were written the same evening after visiting one of the most stunning spots in remotest NorthWest Scotland. And they do share a relevance.....

H

[Hawkman]

Hi hill,

Well, there's no denying the power of the first piece.
The imagery assaults the mind in relentless waves that crash over the soul. It felt stark and stormy.
The second one felt like a balm after the assault of the first. I can actually see that as being your intention.

Don't know this particular area but I've spent some time in Scotland. Makes me think of the Black Isle in a gale. I'm going to come back to it and read it again fresh, to see how it makes me feel then.

Like I said, Powerful stuff. Best, H

[hillwalker]

Thanks H - the Black Isle is a much more 'gentle' landscape (although winter storms along the Moray and Cromaty Firths can certainly create spectacular conditions)

It's more the nature of the landscape than the conditions of sea and weather that captured my imagination - a remarkable headland (Faraid Head) pointing out towards Iceland and beyond, and the tranquility of Balnakiel Bay's sandy beach.
For a November day (when much of Cumbria was being washed away) the weather was absolutely gorgeous.

It's a long drive up from Inverness if you're ever visiting - but the (North) West is definitely the best

H

[Bar22do]

The precision of the description in part one left me breathless. This whole part is dense, threatening. Bare. Very virile. Impersonal, but for the comparisons indicating the human set of references (prayer, faith, fingers crossed, etc...). The landscape is unyielding (and - ed). I was relieved as I reached part two when the voice becomes more personal ("we"), control is on the side of the watchers, stone is only stone.
I commend you for this poem, hillwalker, it evokes deep feelings, it's much more than an unsparing description...
If you feel it may bear a little editing, I would suggest you shorten it. I think the first three lines are a great introduction, but then you could perhaps retain the most striking and lose some other elements of the description, while preserving the progression that makes one feel kind of crushed by the landscape's forces... apart from which -

it's great!. Thanks and bravo!

With my best wishes to you - Bar

[hillwalker]

Thanks Bar for your kind comments.
If you have seen other threads regarding my poetry you will have noticed that editing is one of my weaker points - I try to cram too much in I suppose.
This poem has been sitting on the shelf for almost six months and I thought it was complete..... perhaps not, we'll see.

And yes, that second part is the 'observer' realising that the first part was purely a poet's-eye-view of the world - actually rock and sand and water are just rock and sand and water.

Thank you again

H

[dizzydoll]

Well hello

I have just read your poem again. Its beautifully written but you know me, I need help in understanding at times so its great to read everyones commentary to assist me. Good job, it must have taken a long time to find the correct words to express your day on the beach, watching that exquisite ocean.

[Hawkman]

Thanks H - the Black Isle is a much more 'gentle' landscape (although winter storms along the Moray and Cromaty Firths can certainly create spectacular conditions)

It's more the nature of the landscape than the conditions of sea and weather that captured my imagination - a remarkable headland (Faraid Head) pointing out towards Iceland and beyond, and the tranquility of Balnakiel Bay's sandy beach.
For a November day (when much of Cumbria was being washed away) the weather was absolutely gorgeous.

It's a long drive up from Inverness if you're ever visiting - but the (North) West is definitely the best

H

Do you get Sea Eagles up your way or are they confined to the Eastern side?

[hillwalker]

Hawk,

Plenty of raptors hereabouts.....

Most of the sea eagles are on the Western coast but they rarely venture onto the actual mainland unless prevailing winds sweep them here (most are confined to the Isles of Mull, Skye and Rona in particular and local farmers consider them to be a scourge!).

We get golden eagles here in Assynt (as well as harriers, peregrines and the occasional buzzard) and further South near Glenelg for example golden eagles are quite a common sight.

The East coast is associated more with fish eagles or ospreys (breeding pairs televised on Loch Gartenin the Cairngorm National Park for instance).

H

[Hawkman]

I envy your location!

I was hawking the hills above Culloden a couple of years ago and saw a peregine stooping a cruising goldie. Lots of blue hair for them up there and even the occasional Roe Deer. I love Scotland, hate the midges though :)

H

[hillwalker]

Cheers - fortunately the last two summers have been virtually midge-free, and this summer (when it eventually starts) is expected to be the same because last winter was so crushingly cold.

Check my photos - there's a couple of deer featured there (hundreds in the surrounding hills - quite difficult to spot but when there was snow lying most of them came down right to the roadside to forage for weeks on end).

I can see why the locals call it God's country.

H

[lallison]

You've outdone yourself hilly. Just the title, even though I couldn't say for sure, and the writing that follows, brings to mind a Scottish local with a history of storm to it.


A day to watch
the headland skinned to skeleton and sinew
interesting enjambment here, although I'm not quite sure I know why to watch the particular day, even after competing the reading. If this is a historical allusion to one particular event, I'm not sure what it is. Otherwise, I'd guess it's a personal allusion which works just was well without the enjambment. Maybe consider changing the line break.



as the slacking sea peels off its velvet glove;
revealing now a plethora of braided veins
and black, bone-deep tattoos,
arthritic, mangrove metacarpals
ribbon kelp and green sea-wrack;
where husks of tree stump, throttled dry
by rock-salt wind and desert blast and fathom blue
this is an awesome vision of the shoreline. It's like the skeletal hand I use to scare my students with if they're not paying attention.



resemble Viking wrecks washed up and left to decompose.
I don't think the language fits the rest of the stanza here, nor does throwing a simile on top of a metaphor.

The second stanza is equally wonderful! I got a bit lost on your trail and had to reread, but found my way. Also, I wasn't sure about all the movement in the shape of the land. But upon reading again, it fit with the hand metaphor and I loved how it seemed to change with the tides. It brought me back in time to something medieval, as does does your harsh language.

Best of all perhaps, is the third. I could see Valhalla shining over the ocean.

I liked the brief second part too. IT seemed to allude to both The Wasteland and to At the Fishhouses by Elisabeth Bishop. If you haven't read that one, you should. http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/at-the-fishhouses/

Marvelous poem!

[hillwalker]

Thank you lallison for your delicate criticism - 'the day' itself simply refers simply to a day I spent there last November (the poem was written, pretty much as you see it, that same night in a frenzied twenty minutes of brainstorming).

Funnily enough that opening line is the one I have struggled with the most, changing it on three occasions since the first draft where I was anxious to avoid having my presence intrude on the scene (I'm still not sure it 's an adequate first line).

As for the hand metaphor - it mirrors the shape of the headland as well as its changing form - geographically it consists of a jagged, rocky outcrop attached to a line of dunes that has migrated landwards over time to join the mainland.
The location itself has quite a history of Viking invasions (Iceland being due NorthNorthWest) and possibly Christian missionaries from Ireland (hence the religious theme).

And the final three-line verse was me returning from metaphor to reality - at the end of the day what I had been watching were just rock formations surrounded by sea.
There was no allusion to any other poets' work either consciously or subconsciously. But thanks for your informative response and I shall eagerly follow up on your link.

H

[Bar22do]

It's important for me to stress: lallison's careful readings and critiques are always so precious. I just feel your first three lines, hill!, are complete, the first setting/framing the scene in a season indicated in the title. I find it works great and is well thought... I hope you and lallison don't mind my strongly felt defense of your poem's dynamic introduction!

Be all well - Bar

[hillwalker]

Not at all Bar - you know I value your input as I'm sure many here do

Thanks

[MorpheusSandman]

Geez, I've read this piece three times and each time it hasn't failed to give me chills. The vividness of your descriptions, metaphors, similes and the breathtaking beauty of the language is just stunning. There are actually a lot of very good poems that I've read on this board and some great ones. But this is one of the few I'd say approaches masterpiece level. It's just so rich, and so evocative, and so superbly paints its images into the mind of the viewer with a divine aesthetic that's reminiscent of standing in front of a great painting.

Immense kudos, hillwalker. I've been needing some kind of inspiration to get started on my latest piece and you've either provided that or made me want to give up in frustration because I know I can't match this... I'm not sure which yet!

[hillwalker]

Thanks so much Morpheus. I hope my efforts spur you to take up the challenge rather than the opposite.
Your kind comments are quite humbling.

H

[blank|verse]

This is an inspired poem, hillwalker, with some very strong imagery. This bit is fantastic, strengthened by its being part of an extended metaphor:

following the wrist of land,
now clenching fist, now fingers crossed, now clasping prayer;
On the critical side, I found the alliteration a little on the heavy side; the shorter third stanza a bit weak; and the whole poem a bit over-written - there are a few too many descriptive lists of things.

I found the first stanza odd to read but I'm still not sure why! I think it has something to do with either your use of tense, or because it starts of as a exclamative sentence and switches to a declarative without warning.

The title tells us this has happened in the past, but the first sentence uses the infinitive ('to watch'), which means the whole of the first stanza, which is one long sentence, reads like a sub-ordinate clause, suspended and awaiting resolution to a finite verb which doesn't arrive; however, the verbs 'peels' and 'revealing' shift the reader to the present tense. I know this is a common literary trick of making things more immediate to the reader, but I found this bit distracting in context. An explanation of what you were attempting here would be enlightening.

The conclusion is a bit of a deus ex machina and I don't think it bears the weight of the rest of the poem; the tense shift and the sudden introduction of another character don't help here. A shorter poem which doesn't have to rely on numbered sections might have been more successful.

resemble Viking wrecks washed up and left to decompose.
I liked this line, but felt there were too many syllables in a line about monosyllabic Vikings. Perhaps something shorter and sharper would work better:

are Viking wrecks washed up and left to rot.

Some other words I wasn't keen on: 'mangrove', because it takes me out of the image, away from Scotland to somewhere more exotic; 'plethora' – maybe 'tangle' or similar would work better; 'interface' sounds too artificial and technical; and 'virgins' – I never knew Jesus had more than one mother!

Niggles aside, it is a strong and inspired piece of writing.

[hillwalker]

Thanks BV - your endorsement is as always greatly valued.

1) That first stanza - the opening line was originally 'We stood and watched'
but I was afraid that my character would then be intruding on the piece and the reader would not interact as readily with the scene (does that make any sense at all?)

2) 'arthritic mangrove metcarpals' I think sounds just as twisted as the seaweed strewn across the beach hereabouts (and, yes, some of that seaweed does resemble mangrove roots, so..... I took a liberty, as you know by now I often do that).

3) Stanza 1 - final line - has now been cut on my 'hard copy' to just 'lie wrecked and decompose' because I felt the Viking wrecks reference did not work so well.

4) 'interface' another liberty taken

5) 'virgins' is in part a referenceto the Virgin Mary but also alludes to the region's pagan past (and I'm not referring to sacrificing virgins, just the wealth of legends related to Celtic goddesses in general who were referred to as 'virgins')

6) that little 3-lined stanza probably stands alone better than as a coda to this poem. It was just a passing thought I had after writing the main piece - that actually the poem is a conceit, as I have already mentioned in earlier posts. All I had seen was a bit of rock and sand jutting into the sea.

Again thanks for your response - it's good to read someone else's intelligent opinion and to have the chance to analyse the creative process

All the best, H

[hack]

This is a marvelous piece. The references to the Viking incursions
resonate with me. I was once told that my Scottish bloodlines
were likely proof of a Norse connection, known only to long dead
ancestors (and not in a pleasant way). My mother was, in part, of
Clan MacLean and my father from Clan MacClellan. There is also a
little English, Dutch, Native American, Portuguese, and German
thrown into the mix, for those keeping score. I enjoyed this very
much, the descriptions are superb...peace...

[hillwalker]

Thanks hack. There are so many place-names around this North West corner of Scotland that have Norse (or Viking) origins. The landscape hereabouts truly does resemble something from combined Norse and Celtic mythologies when the elements play their part.

Glad you enjoyed the piece,

H