Auntie's Anti-Poems

This is strange, 'cus I love this poem but I do see a number of problems. I love the theme and the first stanza is great, but a few things.

I'm not sure about "splatters" of thought! How's about "the spinning out of thought in scatter-shot lines"?
I miss read this at first and thought it said "we see some soul-balm from the sensitive" and was going to say perhaps 'in' the sensitive, but then I realised you said seek, but perhaps this is a bit 'telling rather than showing'.

"sincere as an infant’s cry" - a little cleche'd
Not sure about "babble", and maybe reified or ossified rather then rarefied

"We dread the water, then attempt to wade." bit traditional and cleche'd, could be nuanced somehow, not sure about 'wade' cus it sounds to volitional, 'tread' would be another fit in this whymewise, something like 'but we tread it anyway'.

I see you tempering your critique here;

"Too swiftly comes the splashback: “too mainstream,” “derivative,” “colloquial,” “too trite,”or “déclassé,” or worst of all, ignored."

by putting things in "'s and infering its a backlash rather than you. Why not be barbed and direct? Don't apologise for your self (but use knives my brain insists on making me write).

The last stanza is all in all a bit staid; you've got a real tallent with the poetry but the language is struggling in traditionalisms. I'd say anything that is even slightly cleche'd should be taken with inordinate seriousness. It undermines the whole - but even so something shines through quite brightly.

Thanks for your comments re: #162 "Imperatives."

Prince, thanks for commenting on both #157. Re: #162:
I love Cole Porter, but other than the specific song titles which I-- to use a favorite verb from cable news--"referenced" in the text, the only other song in the back of my mind was the Jackie and Roy classic:
"You've got to give a little/ Take a little/ and let your poor heart break a little."

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=81ChxpoZc40

Silas, You're kidding about the "research," right? Unlike many of the other ditties in this thread, this one didn't require any research at all. I wish I had put in "take it to a whole 'nother level," but if I had included every "give and take" cliché I'd still be typing!

and Hawkman, You got it right--the main thing I was going for in this exercise in deconstruction was rhythm-- "Who could ask for anything more?" You, like Silas, must've been kidding when you said that I was "slaving over the keyboard all night." Sometimes the other ditties in this thread can take days --weeks even-- to write. But not this one.
(Maybe it shows!)

Thanks again, everybody.

Gegenschein

[ In Memory of My Sister
March 14, 1953-November 17, 2010 ]

Not opposites but merely counterglow:
from you the shine of charm and healthy looks,
with me, in shadowed corners, hugging books.
We were some pair! The wider sphere would know
us not, our lives in paler lines below
the radar screen. The showy blips and hooks
forgot the folks so humbly stowed in nooks.
We craved a richer, finer meaning, though:
a word of quiet light to justify
true worth. Despite how future arcs may bend
or point to signs that final doom is nigh,
what misplaced bands of pink might signify
won't hasten the old world’s untimely end.
It’s just the sun’s reflection in the sky.

How quietly and with what great dignity this starts out and maintains that throughout until the heart-wrenching couplet with which it closes

A fittingly well-crafted Italian-variant sonnet, with the volta a line early and a rather politically combative sestet, which takes the reader from the individual to consider the whole world and its future. The image of the 'sun's reflection' picks up nicely the neologism 'counterglow' of the first line.

Given the subject, a sonnet in couplets would also have been appropriate, like Robert Graves's 'In Her Praise', but this works very effectively and affectingly.

Oh Auntie, did you know your sister shared her birthday with Michael Kane, Albert Einstein - and me.

Your exquisitely crafted, dignified tribute is, I am sure, an apposite reflection on memory and loss.

Be well, H

I enjoyed reading Gegenschein.

I particularly liked the alliteration and rhyme in "shine of charm and healthy looks" when paired with "shadowed corners, hugging books".

This is a beautiful poem of loss, a powerful tribute of words. I particularly enjoy your description of the two glows of you and your sister, and of her 'shine', although you seem to describe yourself in somewhat more muted tones.

How gracious - I loved the subtle way you began with the counterpoint between you and your sister. Then how that contrasted with what you also had in common (things obvious to the pair of you but perhaps hidden from everyone else) -

our lives in paler lines below
the radar screen

H

Thanks for all of the heartfelt comments above^. They consoled me more than you'll ever know.

One of Hillwalker's recent poems
http://www.online-literature.com/for...ad.php?t=57784
has a reference to Garbo, which reminded me of this piece of fluff from my earliest days on the LitNet, so long ago that I couldn't locate the original thread! Anyway, here it is, intended as lyrics for an old-fashioned tune:

Greta

Today’s stars all come from the same bottle,
These cupcakes will never last.
Though pleasant and droll –
I found my crescent "role"
in a goddess of the past. . .

I want to be like Greta Garbo--
that would be so cool, so neat,
though all we have in common
are two pairs of giant feet.
I'd hop the next flight to Stockholm
If I had half the chance.
Maybe I'm not a raving beauty,
but I look okay in pants.

I'm going Scandinavian
gonna take that Nordic ride.
Just gif me Vhiskey, Bay-bee,
with a little love,
a little love,
a little love on the side.

Oh, I'll be the mysterious figure
in kerchief and glasses dark
who fans'll spot but never say so
when I stroll through Central Park.

I really wanna be like Garbo,
all standoffish and aloof,
but instead of Swedish meatball,
I'm a red-blooded American goof.
Gonna affect a Swedish accent (yah)
With some husky smoke in my voice
'cause sometimes I vant to be alone
but most of the time
most of the time
most of the time I have no choice.

I'm going Scandinavian
gonna take that Nordic ride.
Just giff me Vhiskey, Bay-bee,
with a little love,
a little love,
a little luff on the side.

Yah.

I'm afraid I can't place the appropriate tune to this entertaining piece and I seem to be missing something with the, "crescent role" so I'm not sure what you mean here, but the poem is very amusing. I have a photo of Garbo floating around somewhere, I must dig it out and admire it sometime. Mercifully the screen goddess is sans scarf and glasses, so one may admire her in her prime. I remember her as Queen Christina staring off into space in the bow of a ship while (I think) John Gilbert expired romantically in a cabin. and who can forget that, "Garbo Laughs" in Ninotchka :D As for being alone, I will never forget Peter Cook and Dudly Moore parrodying that famously misquoted phrase, with Mr. Cook, incongruously dressed in a plastic mack, wig, dark glasses and beret, being driven around london on top of an aromoured car, shouting "I want to be alone", through a loud hailer at startled pedestrians.

Things just ain't what they used to be... :devil:

Best wishes, Auntie. H

Auntie, your sonnet for your sister is a beautiful poem. The most difficult poems to write are often those closest to our hearts about a loved one. There is so much to write, even about one aspect. I appreciate the control and care you put into this.

Fire

I can't place the tune for your Garbo poem either. You are, however,far more versatile than Garbo, Auntie.

Love the crescent "role" play on words and the refrain.

I cannot place the song this parodies, but loved the playfulness of it - particularly the narrator's willingness to go all Nordic.

H

Thanks for the comments, Guys. No "real" song to be parodied, just any generic, forgettable tune one might hear buried in the soundtrack of a movie from Garbo's era, or a piece of sheet music that, no matter the time signature, always had the words
"fox trot" printed on the left-hand side.