Love Song Played on the Piano

[Lykren]

Very eager to hear what you guys think of this one, even if it's negative.

A snow of space
drifting down until it sings,
dropping, dropping the hand
upon the keys,
the clack of raindrops
and rainbows.

Magic stains the world
orange on orange
when we agree,
and the results are marvelous,
they are like
fruit repeating itself,
deep red, smooth blue,
all full of colors
exhorting us to be strange.

And strange we are,
little rose peculiar
in your bed, a flimsy pink
among the greenery.
Strange we are who ask
of the fates of never-returning
islands: have they become lost
on the gray sea, the withered,
the branchless sea, the blind sea?

Spring is winter eloping,
and we are its illegitimate children,
the glassy-eyed, uncontorted
mysteries of yesteryear
listening in the shallow haze,
and swimming like dragonflies
through sun-buttered air.

An oak vanishes; a portal
to solitude having discovered it.
Favorite songs elude touch;
can you imagine the loneliness
of knowing everything?
So I release it.
And so I release it.

[Lykren]

...any takers?

[Hawkman]

I'm afraid that right from the off, this poem does very little for me. "A snow of space" is essentially meaningless. The reader is left guessing as to what you intend to convey. As a metaphor it fails because snow is a physical thing and space is an abstract concept, a place for things to be. So: "snow in space" would convey a concept but a snow 'of' space doesn't. If you are referring to outer space then from rather than 'of' would also mean something. The repetition of dropping looks and sounds just a little pretentious. The first one would be better as 'falling'. Snow falls and people fall in love. Do rainbows clack? can't say I've ever heard one do it.

As for magic staining the world orange - well I guess this is subjective but orange isn't a colour I associate with magic or love or music. "...and the results are marvellous," is telling rather than showing. It's a rather prosaic line. "...fruit repeating itself..."? Really? This just sounds funny.

"And strange we are,
little rose peculiar
in your bed, a flimsy pink
among the greenery."

Ok, the first line makes sense, but the next line is confusing. Are you saying the rose is little (as in small) or are you saying that little (as in not much) got up out of the bed? Are you saying that that rose is peculiar (as in strange) in the bed or peculiar (as in particular) to the bed. The point I'm making is that this is just incoherent.

I'm not impressed with "never returning islands" either. Islands aren't renowned for going away; a poor image. Nor am I impressed by a withered and branchless sea. Again, poor images, which are superfluous descriptors anyway, they over egg the pudding as it were.

The penultimate verse actually reads like poetry although I'm not sure that I would agree that, "spring is winter eloping" and we don't know who winter is eloping with. Of course, I'm a bit prejudiced by memories of classical mythology concerning Persephone, Demeter and Hades. But this:

"listening in the shallow haze,
and swimming like dragonflies
through sun-buttered air."

is absolutely stunning.

But having given us such a marvellous image you then dump:

"An oak vanishes; a portal
to solitude having discovered it.
Favorite songs elude touch;
can you imagine the loneliness
of knowing everything?
So I release it.
And so I release it."

on us. How can a portal to solitude discover anything? A portal is a doorway. The last four lines merely irritate because they seem to convey a staggering arrogance: the voice of the poem, all-knowing and condescending, pitying the poor mortals.

So, you need to pay attention to your similes and metaphors. They have to be relatable to some sort of context. Just shackling random images or ideas together doesn't work. Think about what you are actually saying.

Sorry that my reaction has been so negative to this, but I'm sure you'll keep going and produce something more coherent soon. You have an innate talent, but try not to bury it with inappropriate English usage.

Live and be well - H

[blank|verse]

I think Hawkman’s analysis is firm but fair, Lykren. I also found the poem rather incoherent; there’s lots going on but I struggle to make sense of it all, and how it relates to the title. To me, it reads like a draft – the ideas seem to there in nascent form, but are not yet fully formed; a lot needs to be cut back or re-written and refined. I don’t have a problem with imaginative, abstract images as long as they work and convince me the poet is in control of what he or she is trying to express.

I too can’t really see how the ‘snow of space’ image works, or how the gentle introduction fits with the discordant ‘clacking’ of raindrops and rainbows. (It reminded me of this Thom Yorke song (http://vimeo.com/2010297), although I doubt the connection is intentional.)

But there are stronger moments, as in all your poems. I found ‘Spring is winter eloping’ particularly striking – the clarity of the metaphor convinces me it works, but it also gives me room to figure out what is being said. I can see Hawkman’s quibbles, but I think the image is strong enough to stand. In fact, with a bit of work, I think it would make a fine opening line to a poem; although of course, you'd need to do something with it. It’s also not weighed down with modification, like the next section:

the glassy-eyed, uncontorted
mysteries of yesteryear
listening in the shallow haze,

I have no idea what this means, particularly in context. There’s also something about the diction (‘mysteries’ and 'haze' especially) that tell me this isn’t worth re-reading until it makes sense. I think that’s what makes the difference between stronger poets and us amateurs. It comes down to expression and control; with a poet like Wallace Stevens, even if I don’t understand what he’s saying at first, something in his writing convinces me that it’s my fault that I don’t understand, not his for expressing himself poorly. You might like to consider what makes ‘Spring is winter eloping’ a stronger phrase and work towards making all of your poems ring as truly.

I’m afraid I can’t share Hawkman’s enthusiasm for the dragonflies in their ‘sun-buttered air’ image. I’m not keen on them being described as ‘swimming’, which, although it works, doesn’t capture the swiftness and agility of their movements for me; but more so, with the second image, I just picture them covered in butter.

However, I do agree that the conclusion isn’t strong and relies too heavily on mystical nonsense to have any effect. I also agree, as I’ve said before, that you show you can write well, if not consistently throughout a whole poem. I notice you’ve posted a few poems recently; if these have been written and then posted immediately, I would advise you to stop and take your time more; be harder on yourself and try to develop more of a sense of what is strong and what is weak; then cut out the weaker sections and keep working on your poems until they are all as strong as you can make them. That doesn’t mean that every line should contain an amazing metaphor, but that the poem should work as a whole. If the right line or image doesn’t suggest itself immediately, don’t force it just so you can post something on the internet. Be patient. And keep writing.

[Lykren]

Thanks, both of you!