Ver Mont

[Buh4Bee]

Critique for: I am looking for people give feedback on punctuation and stanzas or lines that can be cut from the poem. It is quite lengthy.

Thoughts when writing: I wrote this poem while thinking of poetry as a way to communicate the sensations one experiences when in this setting, and attempting to create the best visual images possible.

Ver Mont, Green Mountain

I am not a painter,
barely can I claim to be
a writer.
But I will attempt to describe this final natural frontier.
I politely invite you, my desolate friend,
To open your mind and listen
to the green mountains.

Here in this solitary paradise of pine,
spruce, and maple,
lily of the valley, pink phlox (flox), and fox glove,
moose, deer, and even skunk, I live.

The mountain formations
are of mother Gaia’s silhouette.
With her arched neck, peaked breasts, and bent knees,
she fills the morning in mist.
She sighs from the night spent
in Uranus’ glow,
Orion’s archery of giggling stars,
and Apollo’s lace.
A passion of epic proportions,
a love as pure as first love can be.

Oh, for if you could see the sky,
Monet’s pastels.
The blues and whites are found in the
twinkle of my baby’s eyes.
This is the same wonder-lust look
Uranus had for his beloved when he gazed upon her form.
How truly lovely they were.
Until the rejection of his children, equating this cosmic love
to the suffering of man, Godless.

To breathe the air of Gaia’s passion,
Fills your lungs with a cool
Gentle capacity, immortal ability.
The asthmatic is healed.

For life is slow and gentle.
There is time to accomplish
all life’s goals, even when death flashes before you at life’s end.
To come to the mountains means you are part of
something greater than your own simple thoughts.

The chirps and the twitter of the birds and insects,
are brief. Although fleeting, their tune is filled by
the wisdom of mother earth’s broken heart.
Man’s existence, her disappointment.

The wind wrestles the leaves gently,
peace is triumphant, all is at rest.
Another day will come, and
another seed will take root,
as life will continue.

To listen to the stream flow,
it is as if Gaia herself brushes her ancient locks,
her tears cry her endless love for her children.
To hear it sing of freedom,
restriction’s dream,
eternal life forever flowing forth,
is the white noise of the rise and fall of slumber.

This is the roll of the mountains,
the volume of their song and
grasp of their height
splashing into the valley,
the white caps of Queen Anne’s lace.

Below the sky opens to the purity
of Heaven’s song and a stream’s lullaby
the banks are overwhelmed by the flora and fauna;
day lilies, phlox (flox), and daisies.
The water logged rocks are the stepping stones to eternity.

To bend and kneel at this holy place,
Are the spruce that raise their limbs in praise of God
Casting a great dark pool,
For the frogs and minnows to swim.

The mountains are a haven.
The abundance and bounty of the short season is great.
The bear eat fish.
The blackberry and raspberry bushes droop from the weight
Of nourishment for the roaming fawn.
The chimes ring in man’s presence in this last paradise.
A haven of calm.

The true sensation of the mountains
can be heard in the breeze of the wind,
the whispers of the streams,
and the response of the song birds.
The hues are found in the sway of the corn, bend of the meadow,
and a butterfly blown off course.
Thoughts and feelings are raw and pure
as they are filtered through the springs of the underworld,
Emerging in the rain, wind, and clouds.

It is not a place of cruelty, but of kindness,
and even possibly love.
The magic of the mountain moments will wash any sins away.
The pensive of thought create a harmony made of animal song and natural whispers.
The beauty of this lustrous land will tame the insane, miserable at heart, or encourage strength to bare the greatest betrayal that sleeps by one each night.

[AuntShecky]

Delete this. A critique appears below.

[hillwalker]

Your intentions have been fulfilled - I really enjoyed this piece for the imagery and the wealth of sensations.
I can identify with so much of what you have written here – the glory of nature (particularly the hills) and man’s insignificant place in the universe.

It is a lengthy and ambitious piece and there is probably room for a little trimming here and there in both the poem and my response….. so apologies for going on and on, and of course these are only my personal observations, etc. etc.

But you did ask for a thorough crit, and while I have only had an hour or so to work through this 2 or 3 times there are a number of points I could make for starters :

1) line breaks (which are meant to aid comprehensibility where images are piled up – or to assist reading) need a touch here and there

L2/3 would read better as a single line

and L24/25 line break would fit better between ‘found’ and ‘in the’

there are no rules on such things, obviously, but generally beginning a new line after ‘the’ is never a good idea

2) punctuation – not my favourite subject nor a strong point – but it was noticeable some of your lines open with a capital letter (when the sentence is continuing) while others do not, so perhaps for the sake of consistency of style you might re-check.

3) some of the lines read more like prose than poetry and actually restrict the flow – whilst others read a little awkwardly :

L4/5

But I will attempt to describe this final natural frontier.
I politely invite you, my desolate friend,

needs a rewrite – something that maintains the gentle rhythm as well as a little more lyricism – perhaps along the lines of

But let me use what words I have
to show this wilderness in its true light
please take my hand
my weary friend

L12/13

The mountain formations
are of mother Gaia’s silhouette.

sometimes it’s hard to find a word that fits what you mean to say but ‘formations / are of…..’ might be better replaced by ‘contours / outline mother Gaia’s silhouette’

L15

she fills the morning in mist.

perhaps ‘wreathes’ would be better than ‘fills’ for the sake of clarity

L17-19

in Uranus’s glow
Orion’s archery of giggling stars,
and Apollo’s lace

we need to be told how Gaia is situated in relation to Orion and Apollo – she is obviously not still 'in' either, so perhaps the word ‘beneath’ at the beginning of line 18 (before 'Orion's') would clarify

L20

A passion of epic proportions,

again reads a little flat – how about ‘An epic passion’

L28-30
These lines are more clumsy than anything – do we need to be told the whole history of Uranus’s family squabbles? If so, it needs to be written as if it belongs to the poem as a whole rather than as a mythological footnote that again is a little prosey. If not, leave it out.

L32/33

Fills your lungs with a cool
Gentle capacity, immortal ability.

I don’t understand L33 – how can you have lungs filled with a cool gentle capacity – or indeed immortal ability. ‘Fills your lungs with cool gentility, even immortality’ might sound better (and in this case the line break is best dispensed with)

L41
I would change ‘brief’ to something like ‘transient’ – you are commenting on how short a time the birds and insects are with us to chirp and twitter rather than on the exact duration of each sound

L51-55

her tears cry her endless love for her children.
To hear it sing of freedom,
restriction’s dream,
eternal life forever flowing forth,
is the white noise of the rise and fall of slumber.

‘tears cry endless love’ – no they don’t – perhaps they ‘reflect endless love’?
Then the ‘it’ in the following line is presumably the stream from L49 but that’s not made especially clear.
But I do love the ‘white noise’ of the river and feel it needs to be drawn more to the forefront – which can best be done by completely doing away with lines 53 and 54 (which are superfluous and a little awkward)

L63

the banks are overwhelmed by the flora and fauna;

brings us back to prose – and since you follow it with a list of plants perhaps you could stick to something like ‘the banks are clothed in fauna’

L66

To bend and kneel at this holy place,
Are the spruce that raise their limbs in praise of God

This needs a preceding verb for the word ‘are’ to latch onto and make sense – perhaps ‘Gathered to bend and kneel…..’

L72

The bear eat fish

Of course they do. But this nugget of fact is again out of place – I was expecting a follow-up line telling us what else the bears do in the woods! The line is probably unnecessary.

L89

The pensive of thought create a harmony made of animal song and natural whispers.

I know what you are trying to say here, but you are not saying it clearly.

‘Given time to pause, to think,
we find harmony in the animals’ song and their natural whispers’
is not the most elegant of alternatives but you get the idea.

and as for the closing line – was it written intentionally as one long sentence? because it comes across as rather long-winded and would read better as a separate verse with perhaps a little re-wording to make the message more resonant and memorable.

As I said – very ambitious, showing the effort you have put into it and your love for the area. The flow stumbles in a couple of places because the themes tend to jump from one to the next rather haphazardly. But overall, with a little judicious tinkering I think you have something to be really proud of.
I enjoyed it and I hope the length of my response shows how much I appreciated it rather than the opposite.

H

[Hawkman]

Hi Jersea,

This is a really ambitious piece and because of its length very difficult to respond to. I tried a sanza by stanza analysis but I only got halfway through the poem and had covered 3 pages of A4. So I will try and give you a precis of my initial thoughts. By the way, hill's response has some good advice.

Firstly the poem has a tendency to repeat certain ideas and even phrases which become redundent, so I'd start by excising them. Also there is a variation in the style, it sort of alternates between classic descriptive poetry and didactic asides, so deciding on the dominent style (and making it consistant) might help you trim it back a bit. Maybe it comes down to showing, not telling, the hackneyed (but valid) mantra of contemporary poetry. I would also loose S1 as it reads like a continuation of the introduction and the poem really starts at S2.

Having said that, you have some stunning imagery in this poem. Just one example:

"She sighs from the night spent
in Uranus’ glow,
Orion’s archery of giggling stars,
and Apollo’s lace."

although "Orion's archery of giggling stars" might be better with either arc or arch instead of 'archery'.

But "Apollo's lace..." this, as a description of dappled sunlight through trees, is stunning.

Try to avoid lists and as for flox, in my dictionary the word flox is only seen in connection with flox silk. The flower is spelled phlox, and as my dictionary usually gives US spelling as an alternative I assume flox is not a US spelling.

Anyway, with some juditious pruning I think this has the makings of a very good poem.

Live and be well, H

[PrinceMyshkin]

I do think that it is overlong. By a certain point, you've said everything that you need to say about the landscape and what it means to you. Saying it again with variations simply diffuses the effect of the whole.



I politely invite you, my desolate friend,

this never led anywhere. That is, I expected to lear something of why this fried was "desolate" and, possibly, in what way you cared about him or her



She sighs from the night spent
in Uranus’ glow,
Orion’s archery of giggling stars,
and Apollo’s lace.

I admire the freedom you exercise to move from literal description of elements of the landscape to ascribing it to mythical equivalents.



The blues and whites are found in the
twinkle of my baby’s eyes.

As with the desolate friend, this is something of a red herring as your child or your relationship to him or her don't figure elsewhere in the poem


To come to the mountains means you are part of

The line-break is faulty here, I think: "of" needs to be moved to the beginning of the next line


are brief. Although fleeting, their tune is filled by

Move "by" to begin the next line. There is nothing about it that deserves the emphasis it gets by being at the end of a line.



the wisdom of mother earth’s broken heart.
Man’s existence, her disappointment.

The wind wrestles the leaves gently,
peace is triumphant, all is at rest.
Another day will come, and
another seed will take root,
as life will continue.

To listen to the stream flow,
it is as if Gaia herself brushes her ancient locks,
her tears cry her endless love for her children.
To hear it sing of freedom,
restriction’s dream,
eternal life forever flowing forth,
is the white noise of the rise and fall of slumber.

This is the roll of the mountains,
the volume of their song and
grasp of their height
splashing into the valley,
the white caps of Queen Anne’s lace.

Below the sky opens to the purity
of Heaven’s song and a stream’s lullaby
the banks are overwhelmed by the flora and fauna;
day lilies, phlox (flox), and daisies.
The water logged rocks are the stepping stones to eternity.

To bend and kneel at this holy place,
Are the spruce that raise their limbs in praise of God
Casting a great dark pool,
For the frogs and minnows to swim.


This might be a good, because vivid, place to end. After this I feel that you are carrying on for the sake of carrying on. Yes, there are some additional good details in it, but you need to think of the integrity of the poem as a whole.

[AuntShecky]

Hi, Jersea,
Sorry for the delay. Actually, I was just about finished with this when I discovered to my horror that I had inadvertently deleted it! I think folks heard me screaming way up in Newfoundland!

You asked very intelligent and refreshingly specific questions. I'll try to answer them to the best of my ability with whatever "knowledge" --if that's what it is--that I managed to pick up over the last 40 years or so.

Your first request was for comments on the punctuation. Times have changed since the long-past decade in which my 8th grade teacher was teaching punctuation. One of the rules was "Start each line of verse with a capital letter." Of course, very few modern and contemporary poems have followed that rule, even during the era when Miss L. taught me English.

In general I would say that we should use the same punctuation guidelines in verse as we would use in prose. By that I mean you don't have to start each line with a capital letter, but --aside from rarefied instances (concrete poems, experimental poems, etc.)-- start each sentence with a capital letter. (More about "sentences vs. lines" in poetry a little later.) Use a period at the end of a sentence; use a semi-colon between separate clauses. You can use a comma to separate clauses only at the end of an dependent clause (which begins with "if,""when," "because," etc.) or at the beginning of a second independent clause that begins with a conjunction ("and," "but," "so," etc.) For instance, "First the king died, and the queen died later." Remember that commas always
separate, so that's why we use commas to separate items in a list. (Incidentally, including a "list," such as your list of mountain wildflowers, is a time-honored poetic device that goes all the way back to Homer, when it was called a "catalogue.")

In general, the primary punctuation error in this piece is its lack of consistency. Don't forget that there is always a reason for using a particular punctuation mark, and aside from the aforementioned experimental poetry, there's no reason to use punctuation randomly.

If you want to sharpen your punctuation skills, I strongly
urge you to read The Elements of Style by Strunk and White.

Except in certain circumstances, such as humorous poems, follow the rules of grammar, such as subject verb agreement:
To bend and kneel at this holy place,
Are the spruce that raise their limbs in praise
The entire phrase "To bend and kneel at this holy place"
is the subject of the sentence, and it's singular. So it would be "is" not "are."
(The S/V agreement rule is one yours fooly frequently breaks. Sometimes my nouns and verbs don't merely disagree but engage in out-and-out warfare!)

The second thing you asked about was "stanzas." Modern and contemporary poets often refer to a distinct section of a verse as a "strophe." (If you look up the original meaning of that Greek word it means something else.) "Stanza" is usually the term for a section of metrical verse (with or without rhymes); "strophe" for free verse, or verse that is neither metered nor rhymed.

Even free verse, though, has a recognizable pattern that is appropriate for that particular poem. A poem can have irregular lines in strophes of differing lengths, but often the arrangement of strophes serves to make the poem look good on the page. From the standpoint of content, each strophe can represent a different thought or aspect of the overall theme of the poem, much in the way that a prose piece is arranged into paragraphs.

Now we come to the part about how a sentence differs from a poetic line. Each poetic line doesn't necessarily have to be one complete sentence, but two or more lines together can be one complete sentence, or at least a complete thought. Even in free verse the lines don't break randomly. In most cases free verse is quite different from prose arbitrarily arranged in jagged lines.

For this question, my advice is to "Google" the phrase "Line breaks in poetry." Modern and contemporary verse is full of good examples of enjambment. Clever use of enjambment can add to the meaning of your poem, whether it's traditional metric verse or the looser free verse. Here's a link
http://www.britannica.com/EBchecked/topic/188413/enjambment

Sometimes knowing when to break a line is more-or-less "logical;" more often than not the poet goes by a kind of intuition. A rule of thumb is not to break a line with an article "a," "an," "the," for instance or a conjunction or a preposition e.g. "with," "by," "of."

You asked for suggestions on how to cut or "desuetize" this piece (Pound's term which I recently learned from a fellow LitNutter.) To mix metaphors, cut the fat so a leaner, meaner line can hit the ground running. For instance, several lines in the opening could be safely dropped, and you could begin with this:

open your mind and listen
to the green mountains.

Again, generally speaking, I can only remind you that poetry is all about distillation and compression. By that I mean, make the lines as brief as you can without sacrificing meaning. Make every word count.

Employing mythological allusions can be classy, especially when the reference is a metaphor for the subject at hand. But I wouldn't overdo it. You don't need to mention four of the ancient Greek gods when one will do just fine. (Since you mention Gaia more than once, maybe she's the one to go with, but that's just a suggestion.) Rather than depending too much on forms of the verb "to be" as in:
The mountains are a haven.
The abundance and bounty of the short season is great.
Instead of prosaic constructions such as "[blanks] are [blank]," substitute them with alternative, powerful "action" verbs that pack a punch.

In my opinion, the concluding strophe is the one that needs the most work. For one thing it's burdened by abstractions:
It is not a place of cruelty, but of kindness,
and even possibly love.
This phrasing seems to me a little too familiar and not entirely fresh:
The magic of the mountain moments will wash any sins away.
This phrase perplexes me:
The pensive of thought
but there are the makings of a metaphor here:
create a harmony made of animal song and natural whispers.

The concluding lines teeter close to prose-territory, and unfortunately seem to think they carry some kind of important responsibility:
The beauty of this lustrous land will tame the insane, miserable at heart, or encourage strength to bare the greatest betrayal that sleeps by one each night.

Finally, this piece attempts to provide as you say, "visual imagery." That aim is certainly worthy and ambitious, and there are indeed instances in which the work comes close to achieving that goal. But descriptive passages and finely-wrought imagery do not a poem make. Nor do ponderous, sweeping statements that seek to proclaim their own importance. Let the reader extract her own conclusions and insight from the nuances and subtleties within the poem. One more time: make every word count.

When you read some poetry from an anthology or a website ask yourself not only what exactly the poet is trying to say but also how does he or she say it. This is the same question you and I should ask ourselves when we want to write a poem.

Sorry it took so long to get back to you, Jersea. I hope this answers some of your questions. Thanks for the opportunity to read this.

Auntie

P.S. "Phlox" is the right spelling.

[Hawkman]

Hi Auntie,
I’d like to inject a qualification into one of your very helpful comments on Jersea’s poem:

Where you say:

“(Incidentally, including a "list," such as your list of mountain wildflowers, is a time-honored poetic device that goes all the way back to Homer, when it was called a "catalogue.")”

I fear you may be giving the wrong impression on how such lists and catalogues are employed. Certainly in epic poetry they have their place as they take up so little time/space in the context of the whole, and certainly in the oral tradition of such epic, performance pieces, they perform a dual role. Not only are they elements of description which may be learned by rote, these sections punctuate the narrative with a dramatic pause before the meat of the action continues. They are seldom simply just a simple list of objects/persons separated by commas and conjunctions. In their simplest form there are seldom more than three before a qualifying statement or subordinate clause is introduced to flesh it out.

To illustrate my point may I quote from the Iliad, (Robert Fagles’ translation) the passage describing Patroclus donning Achilles’ armour before the battle in which he is slain by Hector.

“…and Patroclus armed himself in Achilles’ gleaming bronze.
First he wrapped his legs with the well-made greaves,
fastened behind the heels with silver ankle-clasps,
next he strapped the breastplate round his chest,
blazoned with stars – swift Achilles’ own –
then over his shoulder Patroclus slung the sword,
the fine bronze blade with its silver-studded hilt,
and then the shield-strap and the sturdy, massive shield
and over his powerful head he set the well-forged helmet,
the horsehair crest atop it tossing, bristling terror,
and he took two rugged spears that fit his grip.
And Achilles’ only weapon Patroclus did not take
was the great man’s spear, weighted, heavy, tough.
No other Achean fighter could heft that shaft,
only Achilles had the skill to wield it well:
Pelian ash it was, a gift to his father Peleus
presented by Chiron once, hewn on Pelion’s crest
to be the death of heroes.”

Here we can see quite clearly how every item is given its description, and in the case of Achilles’ spear, history. This is another rhetorical device of epic poetry. Almost every time it is mentioned the history is given. Also the repetition of, “black ships” when referring to the Argive’s ships; “swift” or “swift runner”, when describing Achilles:

In a contemporary poem, even one of the length of Jersea’s, I would caution against the use of lists as they are presented in this poem. Keep the number of objects small and qualify with description some, or even all of them.

Regards, H

[Buh4Bee]

You have all given me much thought. I appreciate everyone's time and in-depth critique. Thank you all!

[Alexander III]

There seems to be to much green, sometimes even insolent greens which hide behind other greens...