Calendar

[blank|verse]

Calendar

In schools teachers cover
the same hard ground.
Snow falls regardless.
____

Brush dust from cold bedsheets.
Open windows wide.
Let your recrudescent mother
hear the tumescent cries.
____

Rains without understanding.
Air ignites. Sun colours
pool under trees.
____

What is left to paint
when everything is painted?
What say the authors of the text book?

* * *

Version 1.

Calendar

In schools teachers cover
the same hard ground.
Snow falls like words.
____

Brush dust from cold bedsheets.
Let it fall. Speak of tumescence
to your recrudescent mother.
____

Rain falls without understanding.
Summer ignites the fields. Sun
splashes yellow under trees.
____

What is left to paint
when everything is painted?
What says the man with the microscope?

[Hawkman]

Hello b/v. It's nice to see you posting again. You have some lovely imagery which conveys intent beautifully. but you also have some, which is, at least to me, obscure... even disturbing. Don't have any problems with Verse one, but verse two - tumescence in combination with mother, whether she's recrudescent or not, especially after having mentioned schools in the previous verse, give an implication of incest! I presume the recrudescent mother is actually supposed to be the earth, renewing and being re-fertilised in spring, but the proximity of the images causes an interaction of concepts with unfortunate cross pollination.

Again, verse three is simply succinct and very effective but, given the title, the last line leaves me guessing with regard to intent. the image for autumn colours works quite well, but the last line leaves me guessing as to intent and relationship to the theme. A trifle over obscure perhaps.

Nevertheless, It's very pleasing to read, has good rhythm, although recrudescent is a bit of a mouthful, and I love the tone. It's nice to have something so well penned to read.

Live and be well - H

[blank|verse]

Thanks for the comments, Hawk.

I did want this to be deceptively simple, and to present a picture that’s not too romanticised, hence the ‘disturbing’ imagery, which as you say, is implied rather than clearly stated, but does occur in nature anyway.

Although I don’t want to give an ‘explanation’ of the poem, I would say that I’m trying to open out meanings and interpretations rather than be too restrictive, so if some things aren’t immediately intelligible, I don’t mind that. Cheers.

[virtuoso]

The proverb, "there is nothing new under the sun", comes to mind. It is interesting to me that you break down the wall between nature and nurture. The repetitiveness and redundancy of nature and nurture is encapsulated in this poem. I think that you aptly underscore the banality of all living species. There is a time to be born, and a time to die. All of the predictable actions and emotions reside inbetween those, two poles. I really enjoyed your philosophical poem. It is simple, yet, also, profound.

[blank|verse]

Thanks for your comments, virtuoso, that's an interesting interpretation, and certainly a valid one. Glad you took something from the poem.

This is a very 'tinkerable' poem, so I've posted a second version...

[Delta40]

I like the second version better although I'm still not comfortable with recrudescent. It is a nice read though and lifts my morning.

[Hawkman]

To be honest I prefer the original version. To me, "snow falls like words" is far more expressive and has better rhythm.

Can cries be tumescent? the word, at least to me speaks of physical enlargement rather than an increase of volume. I think I liked the idea of speaking about tumescence more than listening to it.

Rains without understanding? This doesn't really convey much. It isn't really a pathetic fallacy because you are not attributing an emotional quality or feeling to the rain, just saying it hasn't got one when it hasn't anyway. I preferred it the way it was. Neither do I feel that ignited air conveys an image of summer. Summer igniting the fields was far more expressive. I do like, "sun pools under trees," though. I also prefer the final line of the revision, though given the imagery preceding it perhaps a reference to artists would flow better, but at least it now refers back a little more logically to the mention of schools and teachers at the beginning.

In short I'd be inclined only to change the last line, and possibly the sun pools, I'd say it would be close to perfect like that.

Live and be well - H

[AuntShecky]

In schools teachers cover
the same hard ground.
Snow falls like words.

An apt analogy. The hard ground works with snow.


Speak of tumescence
to your recrudescent mother.

An odd thing to confess to one's mother! (Shades of Portnoy's Complaint.) More importantly, It's odd to find two multisyllablic words in such close proximity, especially when surrounded by elegantly simple stanzas (or "strophes.")


What is left to paint
when everything is painted?

Reminiscent of a line in "Among Schoolchildren": "How can we tell the dancer from the dance?"

[blank|verse]

Thanks for the feedback, Delta, Hawk and AuntShecky.

I’m happier with the revised version as it’s closer to what I want to say; if I had an issue with some of the imagery in the first version, it was that it was too immediate, and therefore didn’t give pause for thought; and perhaps sounded a bit too romanticised, both of which I was keen to avoid.

And I tried to do more with the language and syntax of each section to wring a bit more out of such a short poem. But as I said, it is tinkerable, so I might revise it again in future (although probably won’t post any further revisions, as you can end up going round in circles…!). Thanks for the comments, though.

[firefangled]

[QUOTE=blank|verse;1224177]
Calendar

In schools teachers cover
the same hard ground.
Snow falls regardless.
____

Brush dust from cold bedsheets.
Open windows wide.
Let your recrudescent mother
hear the tumescent cries.
____

Rains without understanding.
Air ignites. Sun colours
pool under trees.
____

What is left to paint
when everything is painted?
What say the authors of the text book?

Hello, B/V. Happy to see you are still posting here ([I]and I should talk).

I much prefer this version because it allows the reader to "uncover" more for him/herself. It does not inject human things into nature, as with "Snow falls like words," which for me is not as precise as letting snow fall the way snow falls and let us make our own inferences from reading.

I am currently reading Heidegger's Poetry, Language and Thought, so my absorption in his views on Being may have me reading into your poem something that is not there, but I don't think so.

For me the simplicity of this are the moments it portrays and asks us to consider from the "paintings" only. This actually makes the ending ironic.

I was reminded of Whitman's When I heard the Learn'd Astronomer .

Excellent poem! I enjoyed it.

[blank|verse]

Thanks for that, fire - glad you enjoyed the poem and good to know you’re still around as well.

I’ve not read the Heidegger book, although I have heard it mentioned before and would like to read it. I agree that one has to be wary of using pathetic fallacy and anthropomorphism; although I don’t think it should be avoided completely, you just have to be careful with it, as it does suggest a certain control over, or objectification of, nature that can be problematic.

And thanks for the Whitman reference; there is a bit of that in the poem, albeit somewhat different as well, I hope. But really the main influence is Wallace Stevens, ‘The poem must resist the intelligence almost successfully’ and all that, as I’m sure I don’t need to tell you! His ideas about, and privileging of, the imagination are lurking somewhere in the poem. But if I’m honest, I hadn’t considered the implicit ‘irony’ of the ending; what I was thinking wasn’t dissimilar, but that’s a perfectly valid and insightful comment. Thanks.

[symphony]

I have a feeling I can only appreciate Version 2 better because I have read Version 1 now. So thank you for both. I also like the mention of 'authors of textbooks' at the end of version 2 as it tends to somehow circle back to the beginning of your poem where schools are covering hard ground. This little hint of circling back to where we started seems to go with the title and overall concept.

[blank|verse]

Thanks for your comments, symphony. I showed the second version of the poem to someone, whose opinion I value, and he said he didn't pick up on why the poem was called 'Calendar', so it's interesting that you say you benefit from reading the first version; I'll bear that in mind. Thanks again for the feedback.