Ah, Doc. Doc, Doc, Doc.
J
Ah, Doc. Doc, Doc, Doc.
J
The last two offerings both look and "sound" good, but far be it from the likes of me to speculate on their meaning. I do think you're attempting to say something quite profound, though, and significant.
The questions you bring up in the language poem (#54) are important ones--
sometimes we have to grapple with words, try to bend them into shape to express exactly what we want to express. Eliot calls it "a raid upon the inarticulate." Your piece acknowledges the limits of language --"words of understanding are lost," but at the same time realizes that language at times is the only way to embody thoughts and ideas, emotions as well. And, as far as we know, human beings are the only creatures capable of speech. We're not perfect, but at least we have language--unlike the "rats" alluded to in your concluding lines.
The latest piece is strong as well. My only comment is that the lines which
use active verbs are far more rigorous and powerful as the passive verbs, such as the construction in the closing line.
A very atmospheric Poem, Doc. I particularly liked:
"Within short minutes, darkness
Tucks the mountains in, and they're gone.
Street lights fade in; doors are locked."
Although I agree with Delta that in might not be the best word here, "up" might be better, but dispensing with a word here would make the line mean the opposite of what you were saying.
I'm not keen on the howling. It comes over as a tad too gothic and putting one word at the beginning of a line immediately followed by a full stop stalls the line. I'd be inclined to drop it completely. "silenced" for the canaries kind of implies that they are being rubbed out! Silent would be my choice.
A good poem though Doc, great images.
Live and be well - H
Dear all,
Thank you for commenting. I really do appreciate it.
I am delighted with your generous praise, and I try to study and learn from your critique.
Health to all.
DH
Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine...
Title
I'm like a title, bold and profound.
I'm like a fishing net:
I shatter your liquid tranquility
And pull you up where you can't breathe.
Just like a title, I promise you
What you want to be promised.
Like babies attracted to colourful plastic
You follow my lead; you walk my way.
I'm like an overture; my violins
Thoroughly prepare you for harmony
So that you disregard cacophony
Each one of you for different lengths of time.
When spider shapes
And roofs of old women's gaping mouths
Start populating your skies
When you see me standing on the watefront
Reticent like a scarecrow
It is too late to blame me.
"I should have known," you mutter,
"I should have foreseen this."
Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine...
Sounded like my parents when I was a kid. Very visual and cerebral as poetry should be.Originally Posted by DocHeart
Somehow I missed "Casus Belli." The "homely" images resonate without slipping down the clichéd slope.
The latest:
There are lots of connotations to the word "title," not only of a work of art or poem, but also designations of nobility, as well as the descriptions with which we identify ourselves-- "your husband," "my mother," "his girlfriend," etc. That's why this one has multiple meanings and possible interpretations. Not clear with what the closing lines of dialogue "I should have known," etc. exactly mean in the context, BUT they surely sound good, and look good.
As far as producing verse, you've been really active and prolific lately, Doc.
Last edited by AuntShecky; 04-13-2012 at 03:58 PM.
The Title poem works for me as the song of a politician who has failed to deliver, but there is an irony within, as if the politician knew he never could, and is berating the electorate for being so gullible. There is some powerful imagery, the fishing net and the gaping roofs.
as far as the structure goes I would query the boldness of the opening line and the immediate switch to the different image of the fishing net shattering the liquid tranquility, before returning to and expanding upon the title theme in the next verse.
S3, I think, could use a comma after cocophany, and the last line of the stanza:
"Each one of you for different lengths of time."
could be tidied just a little. I'd drop the one it would read better as, "each of you for different lengths of tiime." If you want to keep it, it would be better worded as, "each one of you for a different length of time."
In the last verse I wasn't quite sure what you maent by:
"When spider shapes
And roofs of old women's gaping mouths
Start populating your skies"
If worded thus:
"When the spider shapes
of roofs gaping like old women's mouths
start populating our skies"
"(which is what I thought you meant) this stark image would have been a little clearer.
However, the power of this poem comes through forecfully and gives the reader something to think about. A good read - Thanks for posting.
Live and be well - H
Humble thanks to all who are reading, and double thanks for criticism offered.
I do apologize for the slightly incomprehensible elements here and there. I've recently become fascinated with surrealism in cinema after watching Buñuel and Dalí's "An Andalusian Dog". I thought I'd experiment with the style a little bit in these recent poems - and a couple of the ones that will follow.
Good health,
DH
Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine...
Ex
A slaughtered horse
Is blinding her heartbeat.
She's got used to it;
All she asks for
Is a drive up to the forest
A good glass of wine
A decent shag.
Even now
That roses smell bitter
Like rotten liver
And wooden mosquitoes
Dance above her head -
She's so used to it,
That all she dreams of
Is a plate of salmon
And some Moet
And a kiss in the dark.
And the remaining ash,
And all the snow she feels,
Her frozen smile in the mirror,
And the burning forrests
Are her dreams
And a slaughtered horse
Is blinding her heartbeat.
Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine...
Mmm. I'm interested in Ex. Trying to contextualize the slaughtered horse is a bit tricky for me though. I imagined a few ways a horse might competitively be beaten and hence 'slaughtered', right down to the horse that pulls her carriage of dreams but anyhow, I enjoyed the poem for all that.
Before sunlight can shine through a window, the blinds must be raised - American Proverb
Fine work, Doc. In the context of the title, it's a big old 'told ya so.'
J
To L
I promise you there is a future;
Not evident behind my smoke, perhaps,
But every bit as real as fragrant skin
Which patiently awaits undressing.
Inside its veins flows a magic fluid
Which can light up your cities
If you drink it; And if you bathe in it,
The itching of a hundred yesterdays dies.
It's all in white now; look, it has wings.
A far cry from the devil you imagined.
Why don't we take it to bed with us
I can kiss it. You can drink it.
Last edited by DocHeart; 05-01-2012 at 04:17 PM. Reason: Because of the reason.
Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine...
By the time I got to line 3I was struggling a bit to see how both the future and (your cigarette?) smoke could be reconciled with "fragrant skin." Unless, of course, the smoke is meant to undercut the promise of the future.
Just elegant. An honest poetic detailing of a man who wants to be understood. This one left me with fragments I tried piecing together to come up with a beautiful picture, and the picture was beautiful, very beautiful.
"You laugh at me because I'm different, I laugh at you because you're all the same."
--Jonathan Davis
Posting Permissions
Reply With Quote
