Machines

[Lykren]

*want to submit this*

[blank|verse]

Yeah, this is beautifully achieved, Lykren.

It brings to mind Yeats's 'He Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven' and Michael Donaghy's 'Machines', although the latter doesn't share much with your poem beyond the title! Worth reading if you don't already know it, though.

I'm never a fan of the word 'dream' in a poem, even if it's one of John Ashbery's, and I would be tempted to substitute another word for it; I wonder how 'hours' would work, for example. It would also get you away a little from the clear Yeats comparison. But then, it's your poem and I'm sure you intend something by its inclusion.

The poem as a whole is soaked with a sense of resignation, that successfully manages to avoid being mawkish or sentimental; the second stanza becomes darker and more sinister, particularly in the suggestion that something we regard as so natural and personal as dreams are the products of technology. (I still don't like 'dreams' though! :))

But the line 'The sky is papered over until dark' is incredible; one I wish I had written myself, and worthy of publication. The control of the lines - each a separate, equally-weighted sentence - in the second stanza to produce this staccato rhythm is equally admirable.

Great to read as always.

[Lykren]

Hi blank|verse, and thanks for the commentary! I understand what you mean about the word 'dreams', I had the same reservations from the beginning. But I wanted to express the sense of 'hope' or 'wish' (same as in 'He Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven') while also having a word there that fit the surreal nature of the poem; the sea at the door, etc. But I will continue to look at this poem, and see what I can come up with :)

[virtuoso]

Ah machinations and machines! I love the second stanza. The first two lines of the first stanza do not gel for me. Using unravel in the first instance, and then going directly into the spilling of the water and waves. I think you need to sync the first two lines. Unraveling dreams then having them spill into waves does not equate with me. Metaphorically speaking, you could say My hands grasp the surf/Dreams filter through the foam/ Spilling onto my steps/ Crossing the threshold of my imagination/Sinking into the burgeoning tide/Leaving white shirts, dark ties/Floating on the sunlit surface. Just my two cents! I did enjoy your melding of the real world with the imagined world. The tangential line that you draw intersecting the two distinct spheres.

[Lykren]

Hi again, blank|verse. I tried to send you a PM but it said you've chosen not to receive them. Basically my question was, prompted by your avatar, are you Timothy Donnelly? Hope you see this.