Hibernatus

[DieterM]

My boots of lead
Slosh through streets washed dirty
By constant rain and rotting

My scarf and torpor flutter
While stars on strings swing to the sound
Of angels crooning about good buys

On the corner, ten dead trees,
For sale, give off a whiff
Of resin and gleaming eyes

Oranges are my only sun,
Dawns melt with dusks,
As sleep awaits me in my cave

I snuggle under white eiders,
A cinnamon candle beside me,
My head heavy with mulled wine

[Haunted]

Ah, I know the feeling, and you conveyed it so well!!! This is my first winter / Christmas poem I read here, it really gets me in the mood, and describes how I feel as well.

My only question is, what are the "gleaming eyes"? Are they Christmas lights on the trees or the eyes on a birch? "Dead trees" is a nice touch; but I was thinking of cut tress, not the resin variety — which is great in its own rights, contextually.

Anyhoo I was going to pick some lines to quote as my favorite, but I can't, I would have to quote the whole poem, they are all good!

[Jerrybaldy]

A deliciously dark and desolate view of christmas on the streets (and in your 'cave'). Haunted inspired me to find my favourite line and I stopped at 'Oranges are my only sun' as the one that will stick in my head, but I also agree that the whole poem is perfection in evoking the season through less than gleaming eyes. Well done Dieter!
JB

[DieterM]

Thanks to both of you for commenting. I had written a first, much drearier draft, but when re-reading it, the tone, even if it conveyed how tired I felt at that moment, didn't feel right anymore. So this is a somewhat softened version. Haunted, the gleaming eyes are meant to hint at those of kids (and adults alike) standing before the decorated trees on xmas. As for the image I tried to convey, it was that of the xmas trees a sales assistant was arranging in front of a flower shop that morning. They are of the resin variety over here (or at least that's what I think they are - my dad tried to teach me all his tree lore but, alas, to no avail!) and smell prodigiously nice.

[AuntShecky]

Alas, yours fooly has been lax with the Personal Poetry forum (working on me own thread in the short story forum), but I'm glad that I took the time to read this gem. The title's perfect-- refers to an ancient name for winter, and brings to mind "hibernation" meaning sleep, which occurs at the end of the poem. (Not by the reader I mean!)

The opening triad is good, but would you consider changing "rotting" to "rot"? That way you'll have parallelism ("rain and rot"--two nouns instead of a noun and a participle); making them both one-syllable words also helps the rhythm.

Would you consent to breaking a long line (l. 5) into two shorter ones, something like this:

While stars on strings
swing to the sound
It looks better on the page that way, maybe, but it keeps the effective alliteration. And does that ever work! The string of "s" sounds is musical; the form and content blend-- the lines "do" what they're saying!

I like the slightly cynical yet appreciative (scent of resin) part about the moribund Xmas trees for sale.

I was going to ask you to change "oranges" to one orange 'cause we only have one sun. But since there are plurals (dusks and dawns) in the later lines, keep the oranges plural.


I snuggle under eiders
ducks? Of course I know you mean eiderdown.

[DieterM]

Aunt Shecky, thanks for commenting. I agree with your suggestion concerning, the line break for those "swinging stars". And yes, I was meaning the eiderdowns, of course, even if eiders (the animals) would work well too, I guess, like the image of a bear lying down in its cave to hibernate and covering itself with eiders (the ducks).

Glad that, all in all, you liked my little effort :-)

[Bar22do]

Went straight to my heart... and S3's picture stays with me, plunging into the black marrow of loneliness. Extremely efficient, indeed.